Kill or be Killed
by SneverusSnapers
Summary: Complete! Written in the POVs of all the tributes - if you don't want to read the reapings and the interviews I have a brief character summary on the first page so you can go straight into the games.
1. The Tributes

**Hello, this is a SYOT - Submit Your Own Tribute. I am having a clean-up of it, to make it quicker and easier to read. I have filled up all the spots. But for those who haven't submitted their own tribute you can still read it and enjoy. I switch POVs from the tributes. I really hope you like it and you can always join my evil Gamemaker crew whom I write chapters about, but that's only for members due to need of secrecy of scheming via PMs.**

**If you were wanting a regular story rather than a SYOT then I suggest you read mine called 'Gnawing Hunger'. But please enjoy this, it shouldn't take too long to read, it's mostly annoying A/Ns from me which I am cleaning up and I can hopefully guarnantee you'll enjoy it. I still update my other stories frequently so I would go and read them if you wanted. I'll give a brief plot synopsis for this so far and you can use the brief tribute character description if you want to skip the reapings and the interviews and want to go straight into the lion's mouth - the games themselves.**

**SYOT : Kill or be Killed -**

**Twenty four tributes, one victor. Who will win? Who will die? This is the struggle of twenty-four children from the ages of twelve to eighteen who have either been selected or volunteered to take part in this fight to the death. But this year in the 153rd Hunger games we have a special games, a very special games indeed.**

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><p>Dull. Dull, dull, dull. You think being a Gamemaker is fun? You have another thing coming. I look at the list of names in front of me and hiss through my teeth. How am I meant to know what to give these stupid tributes as training scores. I glance at each one in turn, mulling each one's strengths and weaknesses systematically over in my head.<p>

First of all there's Tour Solier. Tour is the joker of the pack, but he offended Destiny's best friend and now Destiny is out to get him. I think it was something back home when they were both back in district one, it was a bad encounter, that's all I'm enabled to disclose at the current time. In other words, that's all I've been tod. but someone higher up than me would know, just I'm a lowly Gamemaker so no-one will tell me. These tributes just have it too easy.

Onto Destiny, Destiny Bond . After her parents died in a fire that destroyed both her house and her heart Destiny has been living in an orphanage, training for the hunger games so she won't have to live on the streets. She's got a best friend that she's trying to protect. Guess who won't give me her best friend's name? You got it. The higher ranking Gamemakers. I sigh and turn to the next one.

Shale Overheart. Shale shouldn't be here. Simple as. He belongs at home helping his family out but for once the volunteering ceased and Shale was reaped. It's going to be tough for him fighting this one out, he is from district two after all. But maybe he could use that to his advantage; maybe he could get into the careers and swing it from there? Or maybe not. i'll just have to wait until someone with "higer ranking" can be bothered to tell me what's going on.

Now here's the big one - Twira Hearthright. Coming from a family of victors Twira is ruthless and will stop at nothing to get what she wants, which is winning the hunger games. Shame, some other tributes really would have been nice to have around as victors, ah well. Twira's almost certainly going to win, simple as. She's the strongest contestant by far.

Onto Cole Dallan. Cole is your average guy, but then he was reaped and he realized he had to win to get back home with his family. Unfortunately he has a loony for a district partner, but I'll move onto her later. I haven't been given much information on Cole. You know why, no need to expand.

This is the loony I was talking about, one girl who goes by the name of Quazza Willowwhisper. She got reaped alongside Cole, the boy she has had a crush on for the past few years, but I don't think that will stop her getting home, though it will be a hinderance. I suppose the audience will like it; the ones who actually like that kind of thing.

Then there's Roderick Giffords. After Rod's elder brother was killed in the hunger games by a district seven Rod has sworn to conquer the games and god help any district seven that gets in his way, I see him being quite a pain for them. He's a career, I'll give him that. The careers aren't anything special this year. Dull, predictable. I think that's about as far as it goes with them really.

Then there's out last career, Lainey Rain. Lainey's parents are divorced, which might help her out with some sympathetic sponsors maybe, and Lainey finds herself being shipped about. I think she has had enough of being pushed around though. Her friend got reaped she volunteered to steal the glory. I have to admit, that girl has class. I don't think her so-called friend was very pleased about it though.

Now we're off the careers and onto the bloodbaths, Arcturus or "Arc" Starre is always hyper and has ADHD and is bi-polar at the same time, so I think that the lack of medication in the arena will be a serious hinderance to him. Unfortunately one thing that is steady is his love for the stars. He is ready to do what it takes to go back home, or so the psychologist said, though you can't trust anything she says.

Onto the girl from five, a very interesting girl. Fenora Kensington is an ancestor of promptly nicknamed "foxface" from the seventy-fourth hunger games who reached the final three and she has more than a few tricks up her sleeve this time, or so she told her district partner on the train when we taped it. She also seems quite bossy and controlling and it looks like she and her district partner already might have formed an alliance, which certianly is interesting.

Now he have someone crazier than Quazza - Brink Freeman. He is wild and unpredictable, Brink has been playing crazy since his mother died and his father went deep into depression and decided to focus on work, but he has to pull out of that for the games when he saw a glimpse of the real self he has been hiding for so long. He looks ok, that is all I am saying. Nothing more, nothing less. Ok.

We have a real possible contender here, Reena Woodson. Reena has been practising with a bow and arrow since birth and always hits bullseye; she knows how to shoot but she will have to know how to survive to win. I don't know about her survival training, but it should come relativly simply to her. Well, maybe I would know more if I was allowed into the tribute's archives but no, I can't do that. I'm just too low!

Here's Axel Leaf. Axel is a supporter of the hunger games and when he gets reaped he realizes he might actually have a chance in the games, as have we. He actually looks quite strong, being from district seven, and maybe has a few more brain cells than expected. I think he has a chance, well, as much of a chance a non-career can have anyway.

Next is Lindsey Grey. After her parents were murdered Lindsey has grown up at her uncle's house with her brother, Graham and her uncle, Rememberance, but she is reaped and her world turns upside down once more. But she's used to it, she's used to adapting and looking after people and hiding her emotions. i think she'll be fine, make it a few days in at least before the careers start picking off everyone.

So then there is Robert Tars. Robert has grown up around a large family and has learnt to deal with things his way, help others if they'll help you too, but his way won't seem to work in the hunger games when it comes to allies. But he looks pretty good independantly, just maybe not someone you'd want to ally with unless he gets driven around the bend again. His mental state does seem pretty fragile.

I guess I'll have to mention Tess Carter now. Tess is unpopular and a geek so when she volunteers for her best friend it caused a bit of a stir of emotions but soon people will understand her reasons, well, not me maybe, but people. Or that's what the chief Gamemaker told me. honestly, what is his problem?

I better hurry onto Dallas Starconn and his two friends, Gina and George. They were absolutelty amazed when he volunteered for George, as was I, but soon he starts to regret his decision. Well, I would to you know. I wouldn't volunteer for anyone, not even my own mother. Especially not my own mother.

Then little twelve year-old Lusa Canvis may be shy but when she got reaped she suddenly became determined to come back home and decided that if she had to kill then so be it, or so the psychology expert said, I mean, what does she know? I was actually quite upset when she got reaped though, she looks too young to be going through all of this. but that's life, that's the hunger games. Anyway, the audience loves it.

Then we've got Mitchel Rye. Mitchel apparently gets teased by his two older brothers and when he got reaped he was angry at one of his brothers who didn't volunteer for him. I wouldn't expect my brother to volunteer for me at all, especially if he was taunting and bullying me like Mitchel's brothers were. Ah well, people work in strange ways. He's certain he's going to die but he might be wrong, but that's highly improbably since he's from district ten, the livestock district. Unless he comes across a mutant cow then I doubt he's going to be doing very well at all.

"Willow Grams has pretended all her life. She was pretending to be stupid and obsessed with fashion, pretending she didn't hold her family up, but when she got reaped she realised she didn't want to pretend any more." I sigh as I put down the next statement from the head Gamemakers. Really? that makes my job easier how? What about age, appearance, hobbies, weapons training? but no, they just give me a soppy life story. I grit my teeth angrily and hurriedly rush onto the next one.

"Nate Morgue just realised where he wanted to be - at Isabella's side, but then, before he could hear her reaction to the decleration of love her gave her, he was reaped and forced to enter the hunger games without the truth being known." These are sounding even more like a corny low budget romance film. true love? He's only fourteen for goodess sake, everything is so hammed up. He has a crush on a girl back home in district eleven, alright, move on. In fact I've given up on reading these out loud. I've only done two and that is enough for me. I'll just summarise from now on.

Thistle Clay was engaged to a boy called Whistle but he got murdered to cover up some sabotage with a machine in the factory he worked in, but Thistle heard him die over the phone and the sound has haunted her since. But now she's got to put the past behind her and try and win to get a new and better life, which could be hard according to the psychology expert who is really getting on my nerves at the moment.

Now onto the obvious bloodbaths, district twelve; Braxlin Coal has been bullied all his life and is the runt, but suddenly he finds himself reaped and instead of worrying about where the next meal will come from he starts worrying about where the next knife will come from. another cheesy line there, the whole "where the next knife" will come from milarky. Ok, he's used to pain. That's a positive. He's going to die. One big stamp of negativity.

Finally there's Match Lyte. Match has always dreamed of becoming a chef but living in the Seam has prevented her from it, what with there hardly being any food anywhere, when she got reaped she realised that if she survives she will be able to cook everything and anything, but she has to survive first which is going to be a slightly small problem since... she's in the hunger games!

I sigh, these tributes look pathetic. The only one with any promise is the girl from two, and I don't even like her. Ah well, I'll just have to grit my teeth and roll my eyes. Let the hunger games commence!

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><p><strong>I hope you read it and have fun, now you can go straight into the games without reading before that if you want!<strong>

**~SneverusSnapers**


	2. D1 Reapings

**It may be the first but it's the last one I've written! I've finished the reapings! I can't believe this - I only opened this SYOT under three days ago and now I've finished all the reapings! Wow! Well, tell me whether I should do the interviews from Caesar Flickerman's point of view or in the tribute's point of view. For a taster of my writing in Caesar Flickerman's style go and look at 'The Realisation of Hunger' and my one shot in Caesar Flickerman's point of view then tell me what you think! =D**

**D1**

Destiny Bond

Lily shakes me awake.

"Destiny, destiny, wake up! You're already two minutes over time!" She whispers, shaking me harder. I groan and turn around in bed. I'll just lie in for five more minutes.

"Destiny, Mrs Gretchen's coming!"

I leap out of bed hurriedly with surprising speed and agility for one so thin. Mrs Gretchen is the miserly old woman who runs the orphanage in district one. Since it's district one we don't have many orphans and the ones we do have are usually whisked away, but since I became an orphan when I was past the cute and cuddly stage no-one has tried to get rid of me. This is both mine and Lily's last reapings, after this we have one day to pack and say goodbye and we're chucked out of this place onto the streets. I'll be glad to see the back of this.

We're meant to give any money we earn while we're in the orphanage to Mrs Gretchen. It's meant to tumble back to us eventually but most of it goes on liqueur bottles for her. Lily and I kept our savings from odd jobs we did, if you got a steady job Mrs Gretchen would hear of it and face us with the whip and we'd lose our savings, but we're pretty troubled with where we're going to live.

Ever since I was fifteen as my house burnt down along with all my possessions, dignity and parents I got bundled off to here. I had a young couple who couldn't have children be seriously interested in me almost a month in, but when they heard I've been training for the hunger games since I could walk and talk they shrank back. No-one's going to adopt a child who's going to be dead three years later.

Lily knows of my plans on volunteering and thinks I'm mad. I guess I am, but I know that I'd prefer to be dead than out on the streets only with Lily. I dread to think of what might happen. Not everyone knows I carry a knife with me at all times, not everyone knows I'm a natural born career. Not everyone knows that they should keep their hands to themselves if they know what's best for them.

I mean, I can't see what's particularly enticing about my short and stick thin figure and the ugly scar on my knee from the fire that killed my parents, Ember and Wax. I guess they like my marble emerald eyes with flickers of grey and waist long blonde hair, but I keep my hair tied back at all times and I make sure that I never make eye contact with anyone like that. Lily's been here all her life and taught me the way of how to survive when I moved into her room with her. In return I provide protection from the ghastly girls and boys who need money more than we do to supply their morphling addictions and alcohol habits. I frantically look at my pile of clothes, dirty and useless. I have no idea what I'm going to wear.

Mrs Gretchen bursts into the room, bottle of spirits in hand, her face saggy and her little piggy eyes hateful. She glances at both of us and sees we're both up. She's evidently happy and gleeful; she has special permission to use the whip on reaping day. She charges into the next room where I hear screams and she exits as quickly as she enters. It sounds like someone was getting changed. They evidently haven't been here for a year or they would have learnt that Mrs Gretchen does her rounds with the whip every reaping day. I look at Lily, puzzled.

"Aren't you going to wear that dress?" I ask, pointing to a baby blue dress which is carefully lain out on the end of her bed. It's her favourite dress and she wears it everywhere. It means a lot to her, it's her prize possession.

"No." She corrects, "You are."

Tournaline "Tour" Solier

Rabadigo Moils tugs my hand and drags me to the breakfast hall for the district one orphanage for girls.

"Do it!" He jeers, I'm about to protest but all of my friends are there, egging me on. My sister is volunteering today so I really should be by her, saying good luck and what not, not that I particularly care. Ah well, it's just a laugh.

"Which one?" I ask, moving my eyes along all of them. The girls are laughing and gossiping, evidently their mood has improved since they were dumped here.

"That one." Rabadigo says, pointing at a plain looking girl with coarse brown hair and plain skin who is walking towards the door we're crouched behind. She looks about my age, maybe a bit older. I raise my eyebrow quizzically, but I'm more interested in the girl chatting to her, luscious long blonde hair down to her waist, alert green eyes and a sensitive figure. But I guess it's best not to go against Rabadigo and his fiery hair just like his temper.

The girl opens the door and I'm there, ready and waiting. I sprint up to her and she looks quite surprised. Well, she would be. I'm a seventeen year-old guy in an orphanage for girls. Before she can do anything I go and kiss her right on the lips, I hear cheering coming from my mates behind me. I'm just about to rope my arm around her back when I feel someone tug me off her and whip me around.

I find myself face to face to the blonde-haired girl that I would have chosen. Her face is angry and she glares at me, madly. At closer inspection she has a massive scar on her knee, making it look mutated and gross. But still she looks sexy, and really kind of cute.

"You look hot when you're angry." I say, raising a cheer from my friends. This is too easy.

Before I know it the girl has a knife in my hand and is charging at me, yelling her voice off. I stumble backwards and she does a high kick right into my chest, causing me to fall over onto my back. I struggle to get up but the girl lunges on me and pins me down with amazing strength for her size, the blade pressed up against my neck.

"Lay one more finger on her and you won't have any!" She hisses at me, tucking the knife back into the sleeve of a beautiful light blue dress she's wearing. She then leaps to her feet without having to even move and of her arms to help her up and she grabs the other girl who is staring at my face, gormlessly, and then disappears down the corridor.

I open my mouth and slowly clamber to my feet when they're gone and speak to my mates, all of their mouths gaping open. "That is one angry chick."

_An old, fat, Capitol lady with unnaturally wrinkle free skin and a glazed over look in her eyes staggers up to the stage, evidently more than a bit drunk. She dunks her hand in the reaping ball without even saying anything and then removes the slip of paper, speaking in a slurred voice._

"_Mitsy – Misty Waters." She grunts and then giggles as she just cracked a funny joke._

"_I volunteer!" Cry two voices from the crowd. They both glance at each other, seeing who else it is. One is a muscular, tanned girl with short cut blonde hair and dark blue eyes, the other a pale and quite fragile looking girl with a scarred leg and long blonde hair down to her waist. There's a pause and then both of them charge towards the stage, running flat out. The girl from the eighteen year-old section with the scarred leg has the advantage and so leaps up to the stage and grabs the microphone, panting into it and then raises her voice, even though the microphone would do it for her._

"_My name is Destiny Bond, future victor!" She calls, the microphone making it sound like she was shouting louder than possible. The drunk escort clenches her hands to her ears desperately._

"_Keep it down!" She screeches, her headache throbbing, "Right, well I've got this slip of paper with a name of it and this name is Sim-"_

"_I VOLUNTEER!" screams a voice, rivalling even Destiny's microphone speech in volume. The escort clenches her hand to her ears even tighter._

_A seventeen year-old boy with a heart-shaped face inset with big, odd blue eyes which are so light he almost looks blind and chocolate hair. The girls intake his dark romantic eyebrows and elfin features before turning away, he may look nice but he's not a Finnick Odair, nothing to get too excited about._

_He reaches the stage and rips the microphone out of the girl's hand, much to her annoyance. "Tour Solier, yup, that's me!" He says, the girl eying him with hatred._

"_Shake hands, tributes." Stammers the escort before collapsing on the stage in a crumpled heap._

Destiny Bond

I can't believe that moron just volunteered, now I can make him pay for what he did for Lily, though. He may settle into the careers with me, but not for long because I'm just not taking it. He's going down and my hand is going to be the one that condemns him.

Tournaline "Tour" Solier

What did I just do? Was I out of my mind? Did I just have one of those 'in the heat of the moment' impulse decisions, because if I did that was probably a worse choice than going along with Rabadigo's plan this morning. I'm pretty much doomed.

**Don't forget about Caesar Flickerman!**


	3. D2 Reapings

**Sorry, Twira's a bit shorter than I would have liked but you know these careers, one you know one you know them all! =D By the way, I'd really appreciate it if you could PM or review some reccomendations about who you want yours or other tributes to ally together in the games, they don't have to be from the same district. I've already drawn up a list, and I think 6 people dying in the bloodbath is a good number (one with a special twist courtesy of 'Let the foxx fly' by gamemaker cronie), because I want a reasnable bloodbath but I don't want to kill off all of the tributes in one fell swoop, and I suppose you don't want me to either. Though we did contemplate (not seriously) a flash flood at the beginning of the games killing all the tributes or killing off the victor at the end. We've come up with lots of entertaining ways to make your tribute die too, heh heh heh! **

**D2**

Twira Hearthright

A knife flies in the air, spearing the dummy's lungs. Perfect kill, the tribute wouldn't even be able to scream. Then two axes hit its arms, right, now that tribute would be pinned down for an interesting death. I charge at the dummy, throw a spear at it spilling the contents of the tribute's stomach and then drive a sword into its chest. That's one totally and utterly dead tribute. Unfortunately that's also one totally and utterly dead dummy. I remove all the various array of weapons I have spiked into the dummy.

"Dad! I need a new dummy!" I call, "This one's skewered!"

But instead of my dad coming it's my brother, Scythe, instead. He looks at the dummy and raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

"When you said skewered I thought you meant 'skewered' skewered, not 'totally obliterated and definitely one dead tribute' skewered." He points out to me. I just roll my eyes and continue with my practice, positioning my body stance in the total textbook manner.

"Come on Scythe, take me on, you're not so tough!" I sneer at him. He just raises an eyebrow and then suddenly runs at me, screaming a battle charge. I join in the screaming and charge at him, but suddenly he stops and stands aside, using my own momentum to toss me over onto my back. I struggle on the floor, winded, as he lunges on me, pinning me down. I can't move and am trapped, my breath coming out of me. I should remember what to do in this position, I learnt this just a few weeks ago. But with the pressure of his body weight pressing down on me, stopping my breathing, I feel dizzy and I can't remember. My brother jumps up just as I'm about the pass out.

"Thirty more seconds of that and you're dead!" He exclaims cheerily, then his face goes solemn, "You're not ready to volunteer this year, Twira, you can't even beat me in a basic hand to hand combat battle."

I open my mouth to protest by my mother enters, a permanent scowl fixed on her face.

"What's happening? I heard yelling." My mother barks and both Scythe and I leap up straight.

"We just-" I begin, but Scythe cuts in.

"I beat Twira in a basic hand-to-hand combat fight, mother. I say she's not ready to volunteer."

My mother nods in agreement, "That is so, volunteer when you're eighteen Twira, you're not to volunteer this year, wait till next year, and you will learn new things!" She commands.

I nod meekly, when will they get that I'm more ready now then I'll ever be, that training can only teach you so much. I would have thought that with them both having being victors that they would understand that. Well I'll show them, I'm going to walk out there and stick my hand up as high as a hand can go and volunteer, then they'll be stuffed, won't they? They can't control me, I'm my own person and they will be powerless to stop me!

Shale Overheart

I wake up in the morning feeling like I've just been hit over the head by a frying pan, probably because I just have. My younger sister, Sadie giggles and I see Litile snorting with laughter in the corner. They're twelve and it's their first reaping so I just hope that they keep up their good mood. I rub my head and snatch the frying pan off Sadie and put it on my bed then I lunge at her, grabbing her by the wrist. She squirms but I pick her up and fling her over my shoulder easily like I would a sack of potatoes like at my job at the trading centre.

She screams for mercy light-heartedly, but I just move quicker and carry her to her room and then swing her in the air. She screeches, terrified, but I just catch her and fling her on her bed. She smiles up at me, her middle tooth still missing from when she yanked it out to get money from the tooth fairy. The ironic thing was that we didn't have any money to give her, so we had to tell her that's not how it works. Of course both of them are the reason I keep so happy and cheerful, but sometimes it's just too hard to keep a happy face when everything good has turned rotten. My father got fired from his job as a peacemaker just months before, forcing the whole family to take tesserae, I'm scared for my sister's safety as much as my own.

My mother works in a weapons factory and my father has been nothing but a burden since. When he realized that he didn't actually have to work for us to survive he made no effort to get another job, despite my mother's constant nagging. Then he turned on drink and sometimes I have Sadie and Litile climb into my bed with me because they can hear my mother screaming at my father and then the sharp crack on her cheek. It's been a lot of things to the girls, dropping bowls, falling down the stairs, walking into doors, but I know better and I would do anything to make sure that it never happens to my sisters.

I quickly put on a suit which is a bit too small for me which my parents bought when dad had a job and we were all happy, when we didn't survive, we lived. I adjust the tie and Sadie charges in, bumping into me. I pick her up again. Even though she's twelve and I'm sixteen I act like a father to her, I'm her big brother who will be cool no matter what he wears; kind no matter what he does; alive no matter what happens.

I prop Sadie's face up with my other hand which I'm not using to keep her up. She looks just like me, tanned skin, shaggy blonde hair falling slightly over her eyes which are so dark grey that they're almost black. I hug her tightly and then put her down and shove her in her room so she can get changed ready for the reaping.

I go downstairs and am eating a sort of basic oatmeal for breakfast when there's a knock on the door. I open it and my gaggle of friends pour into my house, led by Rodney, my best mate. I quickly shove the last spoonful of oatmeal into my mouth and leap up.

"What are we doing?" I ask Rodney, who is the self appointed leader.

"We were thinking about going to the square before everyone else to get a good view." Rodney say coolly, "Do you want to come?" I nod.

"Sure, why not?" I ask and then leave the house with them. Sadie and Litile can find their own way to the town square, they're not totally incompetent.

We walk along and then a tanned, muscular girl whose name begins with T barges into me, sending me flying. Her brother was our victor last year and I think her mother won twenty years ago or something, she's a naturally born career.

"Oi, watch it!" I yell, but she just shrugs and carries on, winking and flicking her hair at the other guys in our group. I'm disgusted to find that her brown hair is blonde underneath. Either that's a problem with hair dye or a trend which has yet to catch on. Rodney grips my arm and helps me up.

"What a freak!" I say, loud enough for her to hear.

"Err... yeah," Agrees Rodney dreamily, but something about the way he and the other guys are holding themselves up tells me differently. I shake my head and continue to the reapings alone.

_A Capitol woman who resembles a ball of pink fluff enters the stage, completly circular and completly smothered in pink and fluff. Everyone in district two stares at her crazily. She looks horrific. She waddles onto the stage and grins at the audience and you can hear sighs because now they know where her mouth is._

"_Well hello district two and welcome to the reapings for the hundredth and fifty-third hunger games. Are you ready? Are you wild? Are you-"_

"_Covered in pink fluff?" Completes a voice from the crowd and the whole district erupts in laughter._

"_Well, I... onto the reapings," she calls hastily, "The female tribute is Twira Hearthright!"_

"_I volun- oh!" Calls a voice from the crowd and a girl with rough brown hair and icy blue eyes like a glacier. "I'm Twira Hearthright!"_

"_The odds definitely were in your favour today!" Coos the pink ball of fluff which looks scarily like a giant pink tribble (__**Star Trek Reference**__). Twira gave a sickingly sweet smile to the audience and virtually all the boys just stared at her, open mouthed as she winked at them._

"_Wait a second – Hearthright, as in Scythe Hearthright, last year's hunger games winner?" Asked the escort, seemingly overjoyed that she (they would have to assume it was a woman) had got a good tribute that year._

"_You've certainly done your homework," says Twira and lets of another horrific smile._

"_Well fancy that," mutters the ball of fluff, "Oh, and the male tribute is Shale Overheart," she added offhandedly._

"_NO!" Erupted a voice from the twelve year-old girls section, "Volunteer, someone, anyone." But for once the volunteering in district two ceased and Shale Overheart stepped up._

"_It's fine Sadie, it doesn't matter, just forget about me because... because..." Shale says, his face taught, trying to keep out the emotions._

"_You're going to win, Shale, you're going to win for me and for mum and for Sadie and even dad." Another voice called from the same section._

"_OK Litile, I'll win, I'LL WIN!" He shouted and the escort pulled him back from the stage._

"_OK, OK, shake hands then." There was a pause as both the tributes eyed each other in disgust. The escort coughed, "I said shake hands!" Reluctantly they did so._

Twira Hearthright

That girl shouldn't have kicked up such a fuss; it stole all of my limelight. Now everyone's going to be talking about Shale Overheart and _his _reaping for district two. If there's one thing I can't bear it's being overshadowed so I clench my teeth and briskly shake his hand to get it over with. I'm going to have to do something drastic to steal back the attention, I just haven't quite figured out what.

Shale Overheart

What did Sadie just do? Now all the eyes are on me, the one with no talents and why did I promise that I'd win, it's just another of those empty promises dad makes at mother after he has beaten her up and become sober again. Unreal, mythical even. It's on the border of delusional. I can't win these games so why did I say I could? And of all the district partners I have to be stuck with the most arrogant, pompous brat. Just my luck really, just my luck.

**PM or review with people you like from the reapings who you want your tribute to ally with, though I'm not having the dead slug allying with superman, if you get me. Make the alliances realistic. Oh, and I've put some people in the careers even though they said not to put them there, but you won't mind =D will you...**

**Yes, the escorts are getting wilder the more I right but I enjoy it so much, especially adressing her as 'the ball of fluff' rather than 'the esort'! =D REVIEW!**


	4. D3 Reapings

**They're getting harder and harder to write because I don't want to make them all the same. Sorry if you don't like what I've done to any of your characters, but I'm trying desperately to make them _alive_ and real. =D**

**You might slowly be thinking they're all pretty similar, but I guess that's because I add streaks of my own personality and feeling into that. It doesn't mean that I'm a really loud, self-obsessed boffin (you never know - I might actually be) but it just means that all the characters have a piece of me in them! Keep on suggesting alliances for your tribute! =D**

**D3**

Quazza Willowwhisper

I sit at the side of the classroom, head buried in a book. It's the reaping day so schools are closed but that's no matter. The lock on the door is petty really, and no-one will bother going here, most people are overjoyed just to get out of school for a day, including me. It's not that I don't like school – I love school, the learning and thought processes, but I hate the people in it, always distracting people and shouting and screaming. All I want to do is have a good book in my hands or a good lesson in front of me, but they're forever distracting both me and the teacher, chucking paper aeroplanes, writing notes and giggling. Oh, the giggling. I sneer at disgust and then decide to go through some people in the school, talking to myself.

"Cameron Trace is a total utter prat." I say, feeling a lot better already, telling myself what I think of everyone, "Nylissa Moon is kind and sweet hearted like Dallas Soot. Then Gwen Falco is always talking, she never shuts up to actually think about what's she's saying, if her brain was even capable of thinking. Cole Dallan..."

I stop and brush my messy black hair out of my jade green eyes. If I say it I'll know I've finally admitted it, after all these years of it gnawing away inside me, finally I'll let it out, "Cole Dallan is the guy I've had a crush on for the past seven years, since I was eleven years old."

I freeze; I can't believe I just said that. Cole is two years younger than me, it's sad. He doesn't even know I exist but I certainly know he exists. I guess my friends, Nylissa and Dallas would say that I'm stalking him, but it's nonsense. He's the most kind, honourable guy I've ever met and I have definitely got feelings for him that have built up over the years. I've seen him stick up for people like me, but I know I can't have him, which is the burden that burns my heart. Gwen Falco has practically claimed him, saying that if anyone so much as sets a foot near him they'll know what's coming.

Of course that has its side effects, now the only friend Cole has is Gwen. I shake my head to get him out of my mind and turn back to my book, just to find the words blurring in front of my eyes. I slam it shut – that's enough reading for today. No doubt my three elder sisters, Selene, Carna and Kance will be rejoicing. They're identical triplets and have just turned nineteen so they're having a lie in at home like my parents will be no doubt. They're all working in the computer chip manufacturing factories and I will start too tomorrow since it was my birthday yesterday. I've just got get past this last reaping and then I will be free to work and sustain a living.

I pick up my book and creep out of the school, carefully locking the lock again. I then walk into the street. It's strange how a district can be so devoid of emotion on a celebratory day like this, but when I know what we're celebrating and I quite agree with them, this is no cause to be happy about. I stagger along the street feeling tired and look down at my outfit. I have a deep black skirt to match my hair colour and a baggy canary yellow top which is probably a crime to fashion, but I don't care. I've never been one for trends or fashion anyway. My pale skin is caused by the constant lack of light there seems to be in our district and although I may seem quite weak I'm actually quite muscular and have strong arms.

Don't let that make you think I'm a natural born career or anything, because I'm not. If I go into the arena my fate is quite simple – I die. After the cheery thought I brush it out of my mind and head to the reapings, where my life might change forever.

Cole Dallan

Another electric shock courses through my arm but I don't yelp in pain, I'm used to it. When you help out my dad with his job as an electrician you get used to the painful zaps of electricity coming from dodgy light bulbs and crackling TVs, and there are an awful lot of them. I wipe my coarse and scarred hands on my navy blue overalls and look up at my dad.

"I've got to go now dad, pick up Flora for the reaping."

My mother is looking after my little sister, Flora, who has just turned twelve a couple of weeks ago, so she'll be one of the youngest there. All I can hope is that she doesn't get reaped because she wouldn't be able to survive. I smile a warm smile at my father and rush out of the house, heading home. I get there just as mother is leading Flora to leave without me.

"I thought you weren't coming." My mother sighs as I cascade through the door, "There's no time to change now, just go to the reaping with Flora." She says and hands me Flora's hand. I wink at her and we exit the house happily, Flora even skips a bit. That's good, it means she is happy. I just hope it lasts because I know what my first reaping was like. I look at Flora's smart tartan dress with her brown hair plaited carefully and shiny red shoes. I give her an encouraging smile and tug her along to the reaping.

On the way there I see that weird girl from two years above of me, Quazza, or something like that, she seems to always be following me and when I look at her I find her staring at me and she quickly whips her head away. I find it extremely unnerving and stare down at my blue overalls. They're not that bad. Sure, the navy blue doesn't exactly match my dark skin tone and my muscular frame may look ridiculous next to Flora, but that doesn't mean she has to stare at me, it's actually quite scary.

When I get to the town square I approach a peacekeeper who is taking all the names down and he ticks me and Flora off on the list. I try to move Flora into her section but the peacekeeper violently shoves me back and I hold up my huge scarred and burnt hands in submission. He glares at me and I back up, crashing into the girl again. Is she everywhere? She doesn't seem to mind, though, so I murmur an apology and start moving towards the sixteen year-old boys section, waving to my friend Gwen in the other section. She automatically waves back and would have flounced over here if it wasn't for the terribly strict peacekeeper keen to start a fight.

So I smile at her instead and she beams at me, being her usual chatty self she turns to a girl in her section and starts talking, she never shuts up. I roll my eyes, making sure no-one can see me and then slot into place, ready for the reapings to start and the victims to be pulled out of the reaping ball.

"_Why helloooo!" Calls a mutated Capitol man whose face was pinned back and a shiny silver, while the rest of him was a glittering gold. He cups his hand to his ear to get some welcome but nothing came, "Well, let's pick the darling girl first, shall we?" He asks with a dull whoop coming from the crowd as he plunges his hand into the reaping ball. _

"_Quazza Willowwhisper!" He calls, "Our female tribute is Quazza Willowwhisper!"_

_A sixteen year-old with jet black hair and alert green eyes wanders onto the stage, her face sunken. She tries to hide her distress, but the people of district three can see right through it._

"_Helloooo Quazza, now, our lucky male tribute is the wonderful Cole Dallan!" He says. The female tribute looks shocked, but Cole looks perfectly calm, as if he expected this all along. He steps up to the stage and smiles at the audience, waving at the cameras._

"_Well helloooo Cole! Now, let's both shake hands, shall we?" Asks the escort, though it was more of a demand than a request. They both shake hands, the girl looking at Cole, mortified._

Quazza Williowwhisper

I stare at Cole, open mouthed and gormless. I can't believe it – we both get reaped together? That's impossible, the odds were against it. Yet here I am, knowing that the boy that is turning into a man that I am practically obsessed me is going out to kill me.

Cole Dallan

I'm terrified. I'm shaking like a leaf and am as white as a sheet, which is surprising for my deep skin colour. I'm going to have to die, and the weird girl is my district partner? Ah well, you know how it all goes, don't you? Some things are just not meant to be and some things are. You have to look life in the face, which is what I'm doing now, at least I'll find out who the weird girl is, finally. That's it – optimism, my ticket out of here.

**They are actually getting a bit shorter, but all of them are over 1,500 words with just the story, not including my authors notes. Do you think I should do the reapings then go into the games, the reapings, train rides, put up private training session score, do the interviews and finally go into the games or do a compromise? If a compromise, tell me what! =D**


	5. D4 Reapings

**This took me a long time but still, don't expect any miracles. Oh, and this is going to probably be longer than all the other reapings. I'm aiming for around 1,500 words, between 1,000 and 2,000 but this one overshot by quite a bit. Please review and tell me what you think. I may not be doing sponsor points but that doesn't mean I won't appreciate it and I may not know the definition of the word favouritism (metaphorically speaking - of course I do) but still I might accidently and subcontiously take people who review a lot's tributes into a better frame of mind, especially if they enjoy my other fics. But PLEASE don't just make some stuff up, if you didn't like it - good! Well, not good, but I want to know. I won't hate you and your tribute might live longer according to my subconcious. That doesn't mean you all start reviewing 'I hated it - it was the worst thing I ever read' to get my subconcious on your side, it means that you tell me the TRUTH! =D**

**I went onto D4 first because I had both of the tributes and also because I don't like how D1 get t be the first all the time and then D12 gets really bad stuff, so I'll write stuff randomly, not according to district order! =D I'll shut up and let you read now.**

**D4**

Lainey Rain

I leap out of bed. Most people sleep in on reaping day, including me. But I've got to meet my friends at the square like I always do every day, we'll go for a run around the district and then practise with sharpened sticks instead of swords before school; except there isn't school today because today is reaping day. I quickly dash to my wardrobe and squeeze into an old black dress. It has a hole in the sleeve and isn't what I would have chosen for the reapings but all of my best clothes are at my mother's house. I thought I was going to be staying there but then something cropped up again and I was bundled away to my dad without even managing to pack properly. My mother made a show of not walking me over so I took my knife with me and stashed the coin in my trouser pocket in case any trouble turned up again.

Last time I had been lucky to get away with a black eye, although the gang weren't quite as fortunate; two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a broken nose, all to stop them getting the coin. It has been passed down through generations and generations. If the Capitol knew we had it we wouldn't any more. They'd ship it off to some dusty old museum or something, and we're not exactly in power to argue. It's a coin from the previous civilisation before here, from North America. It's extremely rare and the only time I've ever heard of one was when Snow presented the fiftieth hunger games and he had one attached to his suit like a medal. The crowd gasped and he was the centre of all gossiping until the hunger games actually started, outshining even the interviews.

After a slight pause I eventually decide to put the coin into a little satchel attached to a large chunky belt. I freeze and then look at the piece of glass the fishermen that I have grown up around fished out of the sea. My reflection confuses me every time. My sharp, angular face and broad, muscular frame are nothing compared to my dazzling emerald eyes, glinting in the light. I shake my head. Vanity is for _those _types of girls and I'm certainly not like them. I scoop my long sandy blonde hair into a tight bun, scraping it back. It hurts but I like that somehow. Pain is slightly comforting to me. It keeps me alert, awake. I flash a quick optimistic grin at myself and charge down the stairs hoping to miss my dad. Quite the contrary, I find myself charging into him. My dad goes flying backwards and I grab his hand, keeping him upright.

"Whoa little raindrop!" He says to me, looking at the bucket of water I just knocked on the floor and bending down to mop it up. I roll my eyes, honestly. I'm almost twice the size of him with my long legs and muscular frame. Though I'm actually quite flattered, he hasn't called me little raindrop since he and mum split up. I narrow my eyes; something has to be going on.

"What is it, dad?" I ask sarcastically, "Either the fairies have suddenly made you all light and careless or something's up." My father looks at me as if pondering something for a moment and then drops his cheery grin and happy outer shell.

"You're not going to volunteer are you?" He asks deeply, real worry in his eyes and I feel myself squirm, "I know the fishermen meant well, but really, you and your friends, you're not careers. You're just a little girl, my baby." He tries to hug me but I shove him away.

"I'm sixteen, dad, I can make my own decisions." I snap. His face turns a deathly white and he looks at me, terribly upset. I stare at him.

"I'm not volunteering today; at least I haven't planned to." I say, and his face seems to freeze.

"Really?" Asks my father, looking for any signs of sarcasm on my face, but for once there isn't any there. He picks up the bucket of water.

"You better get going then." He says, and I dash out of the door, but screech to a halt when he calls to me. "Oh, and Lainey."

"What?" I shout, I have a tendency to be loud.

"You have a hole in your dress!"

Roderick "Rod" Giffords

_Current crouches behind a bush, the district seven career girl holding up a knife, letting it glint in the pale moonlight, reflecting off her radiant blonde hair and emerald green eyes. There's silence and then the girl calls his name, her voice sickly and sweet._

"_Current. Current, babes. You can't hide forever Current. It's time you faced the music. Come out now and I'll get it over with quickly, you won't feel a thing, you have this girl's word."_

_Current shuffles in his hiding place, determination on his face. He slowly reaches by him and unsheathes a sword slowly so the grating of metal against the leather won't be heard. There is silence for a second, both tributes frozen, listening out for each other. Then Current charges, his voice rough and maddening as he yells. At first it seems like a battle call, the kind ancient civilisations would do. But then it becomes apparent, he is screaming because of the knife embedded in his chest. The girl swaggers up to him and yanks it out to the sound of cannon fire._

"_I told you I'd make it quick, babes." The girl mutters, just for Panem. Then she starts to slowly strut away, but then suddenly turns around, bending down over Current's dead body. She lingers above him for a moment and then kisses him on the forehead. She then gets up and slinks away into the darkness, the only proof of what had happened the blood she is wiping off her knife in disgust._

I jerk awake; every time I sleep I have the exact same dream, the exact same nightmare. Every time since my brother, Current Giffords, entered the hunger games. I lie in bed and wait for my panting to calm down. I can't let this happen. For three years that same nightmare has been haunting me, well, no more. Today I am going to conquer my fear by conquering the very meaning of it, the hunger games. I won't have to wake every morning, drenched in sweat and yelling my brother's name hopelessly. I won't have to avoid any mentions of a sleepover with my mates; no longer will I be haunted by what happened to my brother because I, Roderick Giffords, will have conquered the very thing that made him die, and god help any district seven that gets in my way.

I leap up and press my ear against the door, ignoring the empty bed in the corner of the room. No, my parents haven't come up to see what's happening. I guess they've just got used to it. At the beginning they told me I was weak and that it was no way to win the hunger games, but gradually they grew accustomed to my nightmares and left me be. I stomp downstairs, still in my pajamas and then have to remind myself to be quieter, it's the reaping so Pike and Marine aren't out on the waves in their fishing boat, and they get a lie in. Again, I remind myself that if they can sleep through my nightmares then they can also sleep through my stomping. I grab some of last night's leftovers – broth. We had a special meal last night since it will be my last in this house. Next time when I come back we'll all move into Victor's Village. Then we'll all be happy for once.

I gulp down a bit of stew, but somehow I don't feel like eating. For once in my life I'm not hungry, but I know better to think it is nerves. I can't be nervous; I was born for this day. So why is my stomach fluttering and why am I feeling queasy like I did when I first got onto my parent's fishing boat?

I brush the thoughts aside and stomp back upstairs. There, the stomping is surprisingly calming. Not that I need calming, though, this is my big day and nothing's going to ruin it. I re-enter my room and look at the heap at the bottom of my bed which is my equivalent of a wardrobe. I don't even need to shuffle through to know that nothing here will do. I pause, racking my brain for an answer, and then finally it comes to me. I creep across the hallway, carefully avoiding the creaky floorboard, and reach my parent's room. I'm not one for stealth but I can just about manage to creep across my own landing without being detected. Anyway, it's not like I need stealth in the hunger games.

What I need is what I've got. Weapons training? I can use an axe well, even if that's more primarily a weapon used by district seven's tributes. But I bet I'm better than any axe thrower in _that _district. Who wouldn't be? What happened to Current was a fluke, a fluke, that's all. I can survive, if you were to ask me to name an edible type of plant or to catch a fish or to define sea food then I'm your guy. OK, maybe I can't light fires or set traps but you go to training in the hunger games, and all of district four's previous victors agree that you learn more there than you do beforehand.

I sneak into my parent's room. Thanks to my nightmares they've become heavy sleepers so i can easily sneak to the end of their bed and rummage through Pike's stack of clothes. I scan the outfits, they're all too shabby. I want people to think that I'm rich, that I've been brought up well and my parents had enough money to fund proper training instructors instead of just making do with themselves. They're not half bad, but I don't want them to know that I think that so I continue scanning my father's outfits. Finally I settle on something. Perfect.

_The gruff Capitol man dips his hand into the female tribute's ball and rummages. He holds it up for the whole of district four to see and there is an excited whoop from the crowd. He pauses as he unfolds it and then speaks slowly and clearly, well, as clear as a Capitol man whose voice is like a dog's could._

"_Our female tribute for district four in the fifty third hunger games is..." he says, his voice hoarse and croaky, "Tasha Storm." A girl of about sixteen with fiery red hair and a bucketful of attitude swaggered up to the stage, a grin plastered across her face. Then an angry voice screeches above the cheers from the crowd._

"_What? You can't steal all the glory!" A blonde-hair girl screams, clearly off-put. Tasha shrugged._

"_What are you going to do about it? I'm the tribute for district four and you're not!" She boasted and then rolled her eyes at the camera._

"_What am I going to do about it?" The girl yelled angrily, "Well, I'm going to volunteer for a start."_

_She leaps up to the stage and physically shoves Tasha and of the way, her cheeks almost turning as red as Tasha's hair. She looks quite shocked at what she had done when she turned to all the cameras._

"_Umm... hi." She says awkwardly, glancing at the escort to help her out. Luckily he gets the hint._

"_What's your name? And who was that?" He asks coarsely, pointing at Tasha who is glaring the girl down from the crowds. The girl suddenly beams at the crowd and starts to look in control again._

"_My name is Lainey Rain and that __**was **__my best friend." She clearly emphasises the word 'was' and the cameras catch Tasha poking her tongue out at Lainey cheekily._

"_Right, well we're getting all the excitement today. Now for the male tribute." The Capitol mans says hurriedly, trying to take control over the applauding crowd. He dips his hand in and pulls the name out from right at the top._

"_Quig-"_

"_I volunteer!" A voice yells and a tall, muscular boy with amber eyes and golden brown skin leaps up onto the stage with great athletic skill._

"_Why does no-one use the steps today?" Murmurs the escort and then gives the boy a grin, his teeth sharp and pointed._

"_And your name is?" He asks, clearly with distaste at the boy's appearance. Long hair isn't even in for Capitol girls, let alone guys. Yet that was what he had_

"_You're looking at Rod Giffords, the tribute everyone's going to be watching out for." He says arrogantly and flashes a smile at the audience. A huge cheer erupts from the fifteen year-old boys section, he's evidently popular._

"_OK, well shake hands then." The escort says cheerily, if you could call his attempt that._

_The boy grasps the girls hand tightly and then looks up into the girl's eyes and his hand goes limp. That doesn't stop the girl clenching his hand, though._

Lainey Rain

OK, now I'm starting to wonder if this was such a good idea, it was one of those act in the moment sort of things, and I can see my dad as white as a sheet out of the corner of my eye. I avoid him and stare at the boy who's going to have to die for me to live. I link eyes with him and his excruciatingly painful grip goes limp, and he has a look in his eyes of something I can't quite put my finger on.

Roderick "Rod" Giffords

Recognition. This girl is a spitting image of the girl from district seven, the girl who killed my brother. As soon as I look into her emerald green eyes and see her long blonde hair in a bun I realize something I've never had to realize before. I'm going to kill her. And I'm going to enjoy it.

**Tell me what you honestly thought, and there's loads of spots left, so get submitting!**


	6. D5 Reapings

**Half way through in two days! Now that's what I call progress. So far I've written D2, D4, D5, D7, D10 and D12. I've actually pretty pleased with myself! AND I wrote two chapters for GH today, I'm on a roll. I told you I'd update fast! PLEASE review because I love reviews, and I hope you like what I've done to yours and other characters! I'm trying to make them realistic (aside from the Capitol mentors - they're just one big laugh), but I don't know if it's worked!=D**

**And OK, I'm sad to know a name of a type of cloud, but ever since my dad bought an edition of 'The Cloud Spotter's Guide' I haven't seen the end of it. Once he drove for almost half an hour just to get a good view of a certain type of rare cloud which was stacked high into the sky like pancakes. Mmm... pancakes, now I'm making myselg hungry. Don't forget to PM or review with ideas for alliances or romances, especially for your tribute! =D**

**D5**

Fenora Kensington

I stay on the park bench silently, peeking over my book called 'Poisons of Panem'. In front of me a boy is gazing helplessly at the sky, picking out patterns in the clouds no doubt. Next to him a girl is desperately trying to get him to notice her, but it's all a flop. The boy gazes at the sky and I can tell from the dreamy look in her eyes that the girl really likes him. I shake my head. I remember when I was thirteen, free of any worries. But so much as changed in those two years that I've been struggling through. My younger sister, Seraph, caught pneumonia and died. If only I could have done something, but I was powerless to help her. Since then I vowed to myself to make sure I was ready to be able to tell if anything like that happens to my younger brother, Ritchell, because if anything were to happen I'm sure it would send dad spiralling down into depression like Seraph did to mum.

I shake my head and concentrate on my book, re-reading every paragraph just in case I missed something. It's a long and tedious method but I refuse to be powerless while my sibling dies next to me, clueless of what to do. But a section of it intrigues me. Each page has a picture of a plant, flower or berry and then a description next to it. I stare at a purple-ish berry with interest. I recognise it from somewhere.

_Nightlock: A deadly poison. If consumed it stops your breathing and numbs you to any pain, killing you instantly. Even if you could survive long enough there is no known antidote to such a poison. In the Dark Days rebels used nightlock to kill honourable citizens of the-_

I slam my book shut. I remember where I heard it from. My great-great-aunt had been in the 74th hunger games and had died as a result of eating a nightlock berry cunningly planted there by the one who would have become the Mockingjay iif it wasn't for what happened in the 75th hunger games. All recordings of the 74th games and the one that followed have been lost but my family has passed the tale down. According to descriptions I look quite like her, slick red hair, tanned skin and emerald eyes, and then there's my face. Apparently she looked like a fox and according to my grandmother I'm a splitting image of her. She had seen a recording of the games so she described what happened to me. It was terrifyingly frightening what the games could and still can do to people, but I relish in the knowledge that she didn't kill anyone like a true Kensington.

I stash my book into my backpack and sort through it, pushing for a space for my book. I eventually remove a strange stone which shines with a mysterious green light and replace the book there; the small space where the pebble had went making enough room for the book to slip comfortably in. There, perfect, which is more than I can say about my family, my mother's in depression and my father's struggling to keep the family aloft, though he did just get promoted to chief researcher in his bio labs, meaning more food for us, I suppose that's good, isn't it? Not meat, obviously, but more food, enough to live a better lifestyle off.

I stand up and wince in pain as the back of my leg suddenly stings. I was having a race with Seraph when I tripped over and cut the back of my leg with a piece of glass. It isn't particularly painful but I know that it wasn't particularly nice either. But every now and then it kicks back in and my leg starts stinging and I have to sit back down again. I collapse of the bench and wait the stinging pain out. Eventually it stops and I hobble on for a bit until I can no longer notice it. Why won't the dratted thing heal? I close my eyes for a second and almost walk into a wall. Luckily I swerve out of the way right in time just to crash into a door that swings out in front of me. The woman gasps but I just shake it off and continue walking, next stop – the reaping.

Arcturus "Arc" Starre 

I gaze up at the sky, my bright blue eyes squinting above me, trying to pick up any signs of stars. It's surprising how they seem to offer up untold secrets. They're actually here at the moment, just the light and the clouds are masking them. If only that Cirrostratus cloud would drift out of the way...

I'm interrupted by my thoughts by Circe, my best friend, leaning onto her back next to me too and gazing at the sky.

"It's a lovely day," She says dreamily and picks up my hand gently, guiding it to point in the sky, "That cloud there looks like a giant bunny rabbit in the jaws of a ferocious lion."

"Yes, yes," I snap, tugging my hand away, "But can you see any _stars_?"

She looks slightly hurt but I ignore the feeling of wrong doing. Circe, with her dreamy blue eyes and short blonde hair, is always in a world of her own, dreaming up fantasies. Sometimes I wonder if she really understands real life at all. I fidget and turn over away from her, I'm bi–polar and have ADHD so I can't often stay still for too long and often have mood swings. I am on heavy medication to help me out, but it's not life threatening luckily.

My father, Apollo, also loves the stars, but he sees them as a force of power, not of beauty. He's on a project which is trying to harness the power of the stars, making them into electricity. Of course almost all of it will be drained to the Capitol, but yet I'm sure that something, however small, will be left here, at district five for a reward. He's passionate about his work, but unfortunately that means he never shuts up, and although he means well I generally steer my friends away from him in a fear of a few hour lecture on his work.

Suddenly I leap up, knocking Circe away. She looks at me, alarmed and gives me a puzzled look as if to ask what the matter is. I answer by flashing a quick grin and hurriedly speaking as I grab my cloak and quickly yank it on.

"I promised my mother that I'd be home to help Astra with her lunch, she's a real nightmare." I explain and dash off to my house, leaving Circe lying bewildered on the grass, staring at me in an odd way similar to when I look at stars, desperately, longingly even. But I don't have time to contemplate this and I dash through the park, flashing a quick smile at a ginger haired girl who is reading a book. I'm glad to see someone intellectual in the park, usually all the girls want to do is show off to the boys who hang around here with nothing better to do. She doesn't seem to notice me and I glance at the book she's reading, 'Poisons of Panem'. OK, maybe I won't go and say hi after all.

When I get home my mother is scraping back her hair desperately. When she sees me she hurries over and clasps my hands, speaking in a hurried gabble.

"Arc! Thank the stars, Astra is refusing to eat again. Can you do something?" She asks me desperately. I smile as tell her that of course I'll do something. I approach Astra and then sit next to her. Suddenly I make a grab for her food and Astra thumps my hand with her spoon angrily. I wince in fake pain and Astra prises the food out of my grip and hoards it, suddenly interested after all. Having a five year-old sister is tiring, but I have to keep on changing the techniques otherwise she'll pick it out and realize what I'm doing. Yesterday I pretended that I was going to throw it away if she didn't want it and the day before I sprinkled a bit of bark on the top in the shape of Taurus. It may have tasted even more disgusting but Astra loved it.

"Thanks, Arc, you're a saviour!" My mother tells me, hugging me. I prise myself away from her and jog out of the door ready to go to the reaping.

_A stick thin man holds himself up highly and wears an old-fashioned butler's uniform, his long hair in strands tied back behind his head and his huge lips pursed and dyed black. His skin has been tinted a minty green and his legs waddles awkwardly as he moves. He slowly steps up the stairs, pace by pace. Eventually he settles down and picks up the microphone, static rumbling through the district._

"_Well, erm, err..." He chokes, his voice raspy, "Let's honour the ladies shall we?" He asks and sticks a bony hand into the ball. He rummages around and extracts a slip, holding it aloft like he would a surgical instrument._

"_Our female tribute is Fenora Kensington!" he exclaims over the crowd, his piggy little eyes glaring through the crowd._

_A ginger haired girl with an elusive fox-like face and a sly smile climbs onto the stage, her heart beating a thousand beats a minute. She forced a grin but she evidently wasn't too pleased with her situation._

"_Right Fenora, now we have our male tribute..." he rasps, tapping impatiently as the microphone made his voice sound even worse than it already was, he called out, trying and failing to make his voice sound clear, "Arcturus Starre!"_

_Suddenly sobs rack throughout the crowd from the thirteen year-old boy's section. The audience assume it must be a relative, but as the crowd part they're confronted with a sorry sight. The pale, thin boy continues crying, his small stubby nose moving up and down as he hyperventilates. As he makes no move to go towards the stage two Peacekeepers approach him and tug him up. At the bottom of the steps he shrugs them off and climbs the stairs, lip wobbling and fists clenched._

"_Let's have a round of applause for this year's tributes, Fenora Kensington and Arcturus Starre!" calls the escort, motioning for the two tributes to shake hands. They do so, both having a defeated look about them, sure that they are going to die._

Fenora Kensington

I rack my brains desperately to what my grandmother told me about my great-great-aunt. She got into the final four, apparently and might have won if it wasn't for those berries. I should follow in her footsteps, if she stood a chance then so do I. I smile at the crowd. Better late than never, and try to keep in a confident frame of mind. My mentors will help me out now.

Arcturus "Arc" Starre

Let's face it – I'm going to die. There's no nice way of putting it. I'll never join my father in his laboratory like I dreamed, I'll never find my own constellation, I'll never see Astra grow up to have boyfriends and rant in girly chatter. I'll never live the life I've always wanted to because I have just been condemned to death.

**Whoo! That was cheery! =D Review... PLEASE!**


	7. D6 Reapings

**I've changed quite a bit - Reena now has a nickname. And Brink is really weird in this one, so I put it down to a ment affliction that he's so crazy. But he's going to be normal later, maybe with a few mood swings! =D**

**I'm meant to be writing my history essay, but I find myself doing this instead, so you better enjoy it! =D**

**Reena reminds me of Kara for GH, I even quoted a bit off it (from memory, of course). It was the first sentence, but Kara uses knives and is really rich and has no real friends. =(**

**D6**

Reena "Ree" Woodson

I let my arrow fly at the target. Bulls-eye, of course, what else would I get with my archery? It's become my passion over my life; every day when I get up I let the arrow fly at the wall, hitting my target. Every now and then I might stick a picture up there of one of my friends if I fall out with them or try to do it lying down or while jumping or something, but I stopped when I almost shot Toscar, one of my brothers. Oscar and Toscar are both thirteen but they don't act like it, they're the two most immature boys I've even known. They also look almost the exact opposite to me, short curly black hair rivalling my long, straight blonde hair. They also have deep hazel eyes while I have sharp blue. I look like my father and the boys look like my mother.

I carefully step into a sharp emerald green dress and tie a piece of black ribbon by my hair to keep my fringe out of my eyes. I then step into some sparkly black pumps and smile at my reflection, I look gorgeous. I exit my room and trample downstairs. Everyone else is already up and they smile warmly at me when I come down.

"Breakfast's ready, Reena," My dad says to me, "Eat it while it's hot!" He grins and hands me a bowl of porridge. Since it's the reaping I allow myself a special treat and put a dabble of honey in, sweetening it up. I raise it to my mouth and sigh, contented. After this reaping I've only got one more and then I'm free of worries of being reaped, anyway, even if I was I'm not totally incompetent, I could muster something up.

I exit into the district, feeling the cold morning air cut into me, I wrap my hands around my bare arms for warmth and start going towards district square where the reaping will be held. But on the way there I see three figures hurry towards me. It's my friends, Sofia, Alexia and Nadia. I smile at them sweetly. All of our names end with 'a', it's quite amusing. Soph and Lex go either side of me and Nadi leads the way. We all shortened our names, special nicknames only we call each other, I'm Ree.

"So, how's life Ree?" Asks Lex. I roll my eyes and Lex clasps her hand to her mouth. Every time she starts speaking she automatically asks 'how's life', it's a terrible habit of hers. Soph and Nadi giggle.

"I'm fine, thanks Lex, any of you worried about getting reaped?" I ask automatically, then the mood dampens and there's a bit of silence. Whoops! Ever since Soph's elder brother got reaped we try to stay quiet about such things, but now I've brought it up I guess they're going to just have to continue with the conversation.

"I think we all are, Ree, but I don't see why you should be. You're definitely ready to kick some career arse!" Says Nadi excitedly grinning at me.

"I'm not so sure Nadi, and anyway, there is no way under a million stars that I could stand a chance." I murmur, "I'd be sliced up in the bloodbath." We pause our conversation and see tears welling in Soph's eyes. Whoops! Maybe we shouldn't have done that! She brushes the tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand and gives us a brave smile, but I know it's forced. Her brother was the first to go, the district four boy who got into the final two killed him.

Lex hurriedly steers the conversation away with her trademark catchphrase and soon we're at the district six square ready for the reaping to start.

Brink Freeman

"Stop pickling that thing!" yells my father desperately, "I'm trying to work!"

I sigh and put down my guitar, roughing up my messy blonde hair and taking a look in the mirror. With my peach skin and startling green eyes I almost look mad. I grin crazily at the mirror and now I do look mad. Ever since my mother died when she caught an infectious disease off one of the patients from the hospital she worked in my father has enveloped himself in work, taking overtime and constantly trying to find a cure to the disease that killed my mother. It's lunacy, it can't work. I however have submitted myself to music to express my feelings. I tap my guitar hopefully and then place it back in its case, being careful not to scratch it. That guitar means a lot to me.

Once my mother died I went a bit mad, I was mean and horrible to all my friends until they left me alone and I went ballistic around my father, eventually we've settled into a subconscious agreement. I can practise my music as long as he's not working, which isn't very often, but when I do practise I can be as loud as I want, which means it's probably a nightmare getting the few hours of sleep that he does, but that's not my problem.

I get to my wardrobe and tug out some baggy camouflage trousers, an itchy woollen vest, a baggy fluorescent green t-shirt and combat boots. I look crazy – good. Finally I sling a chunky brown belt with a bullet hole that my mother's father gave to be from the rebellion. Now I look rough, tough and eccentric. I march downstairs, stamping my feet. When my father sees me he raises an eyebrow but says nothing. I like it that way.

I barge out of the house, slamming the door behind me and causing my father to jump and knock a pot of ink over some work he was doing. Well, it's not my problem. I sneer at a girl who is in the year below me, fifteen, and march along the street. I grab a rock and pause for a moment, then chuck it at the girl's window and run for it. A yell erupts from the house and I see a glimpse of blood. I hurt someone – oh no, that's not too great.

I run even faster but slow down when a peacekeeper walks around the corner. By the way he looks at me I know he's going to remember me, great, that's just perfect. I just hope he doesn't put two and two together and arrest me - I would get whipped for that. I charge off as soon as he turns away and screech around the corner, knocking a pot of honey out of someone's hands. Oops! I freeze for a second and then charge off in the direction of the district six square.

I get there just in time as the mayor is finishing his speech. The peacekeeper gives me to evil eye but I turn my head to him and tick myself off his list before shoving my way through to the sixteen year-old boy's section. Everyone there gives me a weird look but I just bare my teeth at them, smiling happily and slightly menacingly, like a rabid animal and they turn away. I smile to myself, being weird, wacky and generally outrageous is so easy and so much for fun than being normal. Who wants to be normal anyway? It's just dull.

_A rabbit-like Capitol man scurries on the stage, huge buck teeth and a permanent twitching._

"_Thank you mayor for your interesting and factual speech about the history of Panem!" He twitches_

"_Hello district six, and have some forward carrotations, I mean, congratulations, to the urgh, the tributes who are picked on this hoppy, no, sunny day." He squeaks, his head whipping around him, staying alert._

"_Yes, well, the female tribute is..." he says, pawing the reaping ball, "Reena Woodson!"_

_A guilty looking girl crept up as if she had just been accused of stealing from a shop. She crept up to the stage, a sheepish look on her face._

"_Well, joining Reena on the hunger wolves, hunger games, sorry. Joining Reena is Brink Freeman!" The escort squeaked into the microphone, his hands tingling slightly as he held a white slip aloft._

_A slightly shocked and eccentric looking boy of about sixteen walked up to the stage, head held high. He climbed up the steps and grasped Reena's hand firmly, shaking it, his grip like a vice._

"_That's good, shake hands, good bunnies, no, tributes!" Calls the mad escort and he produces a carrot from his pocket and starts frantically nibbling it with his bucked teeth._

Reena Woodson

Oh no! I must be dreaming; it's all a dream. I desperately want to wake up yet still I can't still I'm shaking hands with the mad boy from my district who is completely insane who is my district partner! It looks I'll have to expand my horizons for alliances then, but if you think about it, who needs alliances?

Brink Freeman

Something has snapped inside me but suddenly it has switched back and I've somehow become different, suddenly I feel again and realize how something weird happened to my brain when my mother died. I remember other moments like this clearly now, when I get a shock. But this is one big shock and no matter how long I wait I don't transform back into my eccentric self. I'm Brink Freeman, I'm back and I'm better!

**They're getting a tiny bit shorter - but that doesn't matter! =D**

**Just districts 1, 8 and 11 to go now!**


	8. D7 Reapings

**I'm quite happy with this one. Also, if you're thinking about submitting more tributes if you've only done one then I need some children, just telling you, because practically everyone is 14-16!**

**I've changed quite a bit about the characters as well, I'll do that for most tributes. I gave Axel a friend because I didn't want him to be having that conversation with his father, also I made his mother a tree loving vegan and Lindsey now lives with her uncle, not her mother's best friend. You didn't specify Graham's age so I made it that he was thirteen. Also I gave Lindsey a job at a paper mill, I hope you don't mind all those changes! Thanks and review! =D**

**D7**

Lindsey Gray

I feel myself being nudged on my arm. There's a pause and there it is again. Who is it? I groan and roll over, accidently whacking the person with my arm while doing so. They let out a yelp which I would recognise anywhere – Graham. He nudges me again so I sit up and run the sleep out of my eyes, feeling really drowsy. But something jerks me awake more – he's dressed. Graham never gets dressed even ten minutes before he has to leave, which means... I yelp and jump out of bed, knocking Graham back.

"I can't have overslept!" I hurriedly squeak, rummaging through the box by the side of my bed to find some suitable clothes, "I never oversleep!"

"Sorry, sis, but the reaping stars in five minutes." Graham says. I glower at him, a characteristic which isn't very like me at all, but I hate, hate, and HATE even more it when he calls me that. Despite the hurry I'm very careful when I pull up a delicate silk blue dress with soft velvet black ribbon tied in a bow around my waist. I stare longingly at it. Should I wear it? Every year I told myself I'd wear it the next, but a part of me resented it. This was the dress my mother wore when she died.

My father and her, they were going out to a ball; they were both dressed finely in their very best. The last time I saw them my father had a huge grin on his clean shaved face and my mother had a twinkle in her dark chocolate brown eyes. Graham and I waited and waited for them to return, but they never did. Soon we were shipped off to go and live with our uncle, Remembrance. We had never met him and feared he was going to be cruel and beat us, but he's just like his brother, my father, funny, quirky and nothing but kind. He has made us at home here. I was only five when it happened, and Graham was three, but in the ten years we've spent here both of us can still remember their faces, smiling and overjoyed, as they left the house, arm in arm, to go to the annual district seven ball.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and then turf Graham out of the room. I pause for a moment. I could wear my usual reaping outfit – a plain white linen dress almost like a sheet with an old fashioned frilly bonnet, or I could wear this. I think of the knife slitting my mother's throat, cold metal pressing against flesh. I stare blankly at the dress. It brings up too much pain for me, should I wear it? I pause and then slip it on, just to be comforted by the smooth silk caressing my skin.

I raise a hand, ignoring the scars and cuts all over them from working in the paper mill. When you're fourteen you can join and in one year I've managed to completly disfigure my hands with cuts and scars. I stroke my soft brown hair and pull it out of a ponytail, letting it fall onto my shoulders loosely. I'm like my father, very tall and silent, but always trying to be cheery when around the family. I even have his mousse brown hair in wild curls and cheeky grin, but the one thing I have from my mother is her eyes, wide and resentful, able to show such emotion.

I look at myself in the mirror and for a second I can almost see my mother, but the vision flashes away and I'm left staring at myself. I slip into my black school shoes and wrap a sea green cardigan around my dress to keep me warm. Then I quickly dash downstairs and catch up with Graham just as he's leaving through the front door. I find myself clasping his cold hand and walking down. For all we know, this might be our last day in district seven.

Axel Leaf

I wobble at the top of a tree.

"Axel, come down!" Calls my only friend, Oscatt.

"No!" I scream as loud as I can muster, my voice wobbly, "I have to conquer my fear!"

Oscatt tries to climb up the base of the tree. I kick out at him, he flinches and then suddenly am bubbling apologies, "I'm sorry, oh I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! I didn't mean to hurt you!" I gasp, a stream of apologies flowing out of my mouth.

"Shut up and get down! It's almost time for the reaping!" Calls Oscatt, evidently annoyed. Oscatt reminds me of my father, who is also a lumberjack. Oscatt is his apprentice, and is two years older than me so this would be his last year of the reapings. I look down, the ground look terrifyingly far away. I freeze momentarily, my expression priceless. I want to get down; I can climb the tree another time, but something's stopping me. I gulp; my legs are wobbling like jelly.

"I can't! I'm stuck!" I shout, and glimpse Oscatt's worried face through the trees. Why did I have to do this? I don't want to miss the reapings. I know it sounds evil, but I enjoy the hunger games. I know people in other districts don't as much, even in our districts there's a lot of hatred, but they're called the hunger GAMES for a reason. It's all about competing and as a lover of sport myself, I love to compete.

I see Oscatt roll his eyes at me and suddenly grip the tree with his brute force that he possesses. Suddenly the whole tree is shaking and I'm screaming a high pitched girly scream. Luckily I'm unpopular enough as it is, so only Oscatt heard and he's not really bothered about me, since he moved in with my parents and I he's got used to my weird ways. I get up early and despise even the mention of the word 'lie in'. I spend a lot of time running and am always trying to improve my bulky figure, even if no-one cares. Also, if anyone comes near me I'm painfully nice, as he calls it. Apparently that's why I have no friends, which I don't see how come. I've been taught to be nice to people, even if they are swearing at you and calling you every insult under the sun. Eventually people have just decided to leave me alone, and since there's only one huge school in district seven it's not that hard to avoid me, they just have to look out for a needle in a haystack.

I'm sixteen so as soon as this year of school ends I'm off into a job – I'm not sticking around no matter how much my parents want me to better myself. As long as I have food on the table and a roof over my head I'm happy, and my strength certainly will provide that. The tree jerks again and I tumble out of it and collapse on the floor painfully. I look down at my dusty brown trousers, white school shirt and my father's fake leather jacket. He couldn't afford real leather of course, and anyway, my mum would go ballistic because she's a vegan. How she manages to survive I have no idea, but I'm one hundred percent behind meat like my father and she isn't changing me.

I grab the axe I left right next to where I fell. Half a metre to the right and I would be dead. Is hiver, death is a mysterious thing. I swing the axe at the base of the tree, giving it a good stick. That should stop someone from stealing it and harm the tree a bit. OK, I don't believe trees have feelings like my mother, but I want to inflict some pain on the thing anyway because somehow I hate climbing. I mean; a district seven who is afraid of heights? It's unheard of. I leap up and Oscatt grab me and we stumble towards the town square for the reapings.

_A porky Capitol man waddles up to the stage and the district mentor has to help him out to stop him falling over on the steps. District seven shivers with disgust at his weight but he's seemingly oblivious to the hatred seeping out of the crowd. He gives a huge inhuman grin and shoves his podgy hand in the female reaping ball._

"_And the female tribute is..." He says, and then tries to remove his hand. It doesn't seem to come out. He tugs violently at the ball and then his hand eventually flies out with a popping sound. The glass reaping ball soars over the crowd and crashes into the mayor, whose face turns beetroot purple._

"_Yes, well, err; let's give a cheer for Lindsey Gray shall we?" He hurriedly calls, trying to gain attention from the furious mayor. _

_A lanky girl with dark brown curly hair and scarred hands slowly creeps up to the stage sheepishly. She seems to be shaking, but the escort grabs her hand and waves it up in the air above him, jerking her upwards._

"_Any volunteers? Lindy Brown, district seven's female tribute!" He exclaims into the microphone and a half hearted cheer comes from the crowd. There's sobbing from the thirteen year-old boy's section but aside from that no-one does anything to volunteer._

"_Okey dokey folks, the fabulous guy is hereby called... Axel Leaf!" the man calls, panting heavily from all of the effort for standing up for a while. He reaches his podgy hand out and wrenches the chair Lindsey is sitting on, causing her to topple off the stage he seems oblivious and as Lindsey tumbles back on a tough looking sixteen year-old with deep brown hair and inset eyes walks up to the stage, an ecstatic grin on his face. He prises the microphone from the fat man as his chair collapses under his weight and speaks to the audience._

"_My name is Axel Leaf and it is an honour to be selected to take part in this wonderful tournament!" He calls, waving to the crowd. That might have worked in district one, but not in district seven where virtually everyone hates the hunger games. There are the odd cheers from the crowd and someone shouts out._

"_Make me proud, my boy!" shouts the person, it must be his father. They look almost identical. The podgy escort rips the microphone out of Axel's hand._

"_Shake hands then tributes!" He shouts happily, glad to finally have a contender._

Lindsey Grey

I'm absolutely terrified. I can't stop shaking. The whole op Panem is watching me and all I can do is gape at awe at my disastrous bad luck. OK, I have a good district partner. He may not be a looker but he's fit enough. But me? I'm just the poor old girl from district seven. No-one will want anything to do with me. They might as well have signed my death warrant. I might go into the arena but I won't get back out again.

Axel Leaf

I can't believe my luck! I wasn't going to volunteer, obviously, but now I look at it I have a chance in this. You never know – I could actually win this thing. I never wanted to be a lumberjack like my father and Oscatt, and I definitely didn't want to be like my mother, obsessed with the preservation of life in a district where all anyone does is cut things down. No, I'm my own person and I'm going to win these games for me, my district and my family.


	9. D8 Reapings

**I was going to kill Braxlin Coal off in the Bloodbath but his faithful creator has been reviewing like crazy so my subconcious has steered me to not do so, meaning that only five people are dying in the bloodbath now, one with a special twist. It's not going to be particularly eventful, but you know, these things happen.**

**Also I'm afraid to have to remind you that I'm not having a sponsoring system. You'll just sit back and relax while I sort that all out because I don't want to over complicate things, and tributes will be getting silver parachutes only when it' part of the story and if they're likely to have sponsors. Some of you are getting a bit confused about the layout of my reapings as well, I'm writing each district in a random order but posting them so eventually they'll go D1, D2, D3, D4 etc.**

**Thanks and keep reviewing! It means I'll like you more and if I like you more I'll like your tribute more - think of what I did to Braxlin! =D**

**D8**

Tessinal "Tess" Carter

"So according to the correlation between the two lines, 'x' therefore must be a high relative frequency." I finish, explaining the answer to my best friend, Hayley Kamin, and then move onto the next question. I'm just about to open my mouth to speak when I see Hayley roll her eyes at me and I snap my look shut suddenly, causing her to jump.

"I don't mean to bore you." I say bitterly, "It's just that you only got sixty-two percent in your last exam, and compared to the class' average of seventy-eight percent I believe you need the study, and anyway, you requested me to help you."

Hayley smiles apologetically, "I'm sorry, it's just you have a way of making everything ten times more complicated than it should be."

"That's enough for today." I conclude, marking off 'help Hayley revise' on my list in my notepad, then leaf onto the next page. What's next? I stare blankly at the words for a moment and then process them – 'go to the reaping'. I stare down vacantly at my comfortable baggy jeans and lengthy woollen jumper. I would change but it's not on my list, I really should have thought about this before. I grimace, why am I bothered about what I'll wear to the reaping – it shouldn't be a time for celebration, more like a time for mourning for all the poor dead tributes that have been butchered over the years, my elder brother, Sydney included.

I shake my head and leap up, causing Hayley to bowl over and fall off the bench, now it's my turn to roll my eyes. "Honestly Hayley, come on,"

"Where are we going?" She asks, struggling up and brushing herself down, her

"The reaping, of course!" I say, really, and people think she's clever. Unfortunately, according to the scowl fixed on Hayley's face, I think I might have just said that out loud. I quickly grab Hayley's arm and tug her along towards the square before she can start lecturing me about making and keeping friends again, unfortunately I'm not quick enough.

"Tess, have you ever tried accepting that people aren't computers and it's OK to be bad at something?" Hayley asks yet again.

"Listen Hayley, you're nerdy like me but you're also cool. If you stopped hanging around with me then maybe you could get some actual proper friends because I'm never going to be a proper friend to you." I say, my voice raising and storm off. I can hear Hayley calling for me but I ignore her. We'll make up later, and anyway, I'm not in the mood for talking anymore because it's the anniversary of when my brother got condemned.

"Tess!" I hear Hayley shout again, I dive into a winding alleyway and then pause for a second.

"Get a _proper _friend!" I hiss, angrily. I'm a proper friend, none of the others would go through revision with Hayley on reaping day, none of the other would listen to her cry and pour out all her worries and troubles, none of the others would sacrifice themselves for her. I smile, now I can feel better. If Hayley gets reaped I'll volunteer for her, that's a promise, but the great thing is that she won't get reaped, the chances are too slim. It's more likely that I'll get reaped with the tesserae I have piled up from having to keep my parents aloft. I just hope that they'll get a proper job before next year because that will be my last reapings.

Robert Tars

Damn this beard! It's not anything proper, just a wispy goatee which always seems to grow back, no matter what I do. It's ginger like my hair and compared to my unhealthily light complexion and deep brown eyes hidden behind my thick glasses that seem to stare into your soul it is ridiculously out of place. Everything about me is out of place, I'm thin and lanky, I can hit a good kick but aside from that it's practically all I can do. Just as it happens when I'm thinking about fighting, it's reaping day. I stroke my slick ginger hair carefully and then put on a smart suit belongs to my nineteen year-old brother James. I look at myself in the mirror – I'm just about presentable for the reapings. I don't see what all the fuss is about them, good or bad. They're just a part of life really, there's nothing you can do about it.

I swing open the door just for it to crash into my thirteen year-old sister, Sylvia's face.

"Watch it!" She growls and brushes down the canary yellow dress she's wearing. She looks like a lemon but I don't comment; you don't want to be near Sylvia when she's angry. My younger brother, Mark Tars, is screaming his head off downstairs.

"Go shut him up Sylvia." I snap at her.

"Oh, why do I have to shut him up? Why don't _you _do something for once?" Sylvia growls at me angrily.

"I'm older than you and you're a girl, that's why!"

"What! That's sexist, you try pulling your weight for once around here!" Snaps Sylvia as she tramples downstairs to look after one year-old Mark. My elder brother James strides out of the bathroom, naked from the waist up, probably to show off his six pack. He grins at me, he wants something, I'm sure of it.

"Hey, Rob, mate, I have a little job for you!" He says, patting me on the back, then glares at my angrily, "Is that my suit, take it off!" He commands.

"Tell you what, if you let me have the suit for the day I'll help you smuggle your girlfriend out of your room." I say.

"Deal – wait a second, how did you know that Lydia was in there?" He asks suspiciously then turns pale, "You haven't been spying on us, have you?"

I roll my eyes, "No, why would I want to do that? It's just that's all you ever want me to do. Look, I'll distract mum and dad while you go and get her out, OK?" James nods at my and then enter the kitchen and dip my thumb in a red sauce, I then let out a high pitched scream and then charge into my parent's room clutching my thumb. My parents don't even look at my thumb; they just see me screaming and go crazy. My mother joins in on the screaming, she's extremely squeamish, while my father places his hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. I see the front door slam signifying that Lydia's safely out of the house and then stop as suddenly as I started.

"What is it, son?" My father bellows hurriedly, my mother still screaming frantically.

"Oh, I just got a paper cut." I say off handily and then stride out of the room to go to the reapings like nothing happened, leaving a bewildered look of surprise on my parent's faces.

_The eighteen year-old girl swaggers on the stage, her golden hair the same colour as her eyes and her bronzed skin tanned and sexy. There's a whoop and a few wolf whistles from the male sections, but the girls just glare angrily at both the boys and the escort._

"_Hey guys," the escort says, winking in the direction of the eighteen year-old boys. "I guess it looks like I have to pick which two lucky tributes get to spend a whole two weeks with me." _

_The reaping ball is carried on by a young peacemaker and the escort takes the glass out of his hands and kisses him on the cheek, making him blush bright red and almost all the boys glower with envy. "Thanks honey, now the female tribute is... Hayley Kamin!" _

_There's a hush from the crowd and a brown haired girl nervously steps up to the stage, wobbling and glancing back into the seventeen year-old girl's section she just game from. Then suddenly a voice squeaks out._

"_I volunteer..." It mutters, and then repeats it louder, "I volunteer!"_

_A seventeen year-old girl strides up to the stage but the other girl grabs her and they have a hushed conversation until the escort hurries them on. The girl has grey/green eyes, is tall and sturdily built and has long brown hair. She shakily steps up to the stage and speaks into the microphone._

"_I'm Tess Carter and I vowed to myself I'd volunteer for Hayley if ever the time comes, and since I'm statistically more likely to win I decided-" _

_She is cut off my the escort who is only one year older then her snatching the microphone. "Yeah, nice to meet you, Honey. Now, next is the delicious boy tribute who I just hope is a hottie, and his name is Robert Tars!"_

_A boy of seventeen starts sobbing, tears streaming down his cheek. He steps forward and gulps; trying to take in air, but it isn't working and he can't stop crying. He steps up to the stage and stares shakily at the camera, trying to raise a smile beneath sniffles._

"_Shake hands then!" Calls the escort merrily._

Tessinal "Tess" Carter

Statistically I'm more likely to win than Hayley so why do I doubt myself? I keep on telling myself I shouldn't have done it but I don't know why, I'm just being stupid I guess. But I know that I'm never stupid, that I'm always the best, no matter what. I just hope the same applies for the games.

Robert Tars

I keep on telling myself to stop crying but it's not working. This is stupid – I have to stop crying. I try to control my sobs as I shake hands with the nerdy girl in my year. My best friend, Quinten, who is also a geek, really likes her. I don't know why. All I know is all my brother will be talking about when he visits me will be the escort and how I'll have to save a piece of her for him. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and try to smile, however hard it is.


	10. D9 Reapings

**I had a bit of writer's block with these two. It's half one in the morning and I'm fired up with caffeine from drinking two cans of pepsi, so I wrote this, but it isn't my best as you can guess from my situation. =D**

**D9**

Lusa Canvis

I can't bear it any longer. I look at the boys in my year, prodding the poor raven with a stick, its brain showing but still it's alive. They laugh menacingly and one gets a brick and cracks it down onto the bird's wing, making it squawk in pain. Usually I wouldn't draw any unnecessary attention to myself but this is just beastly. I jump down off the wall I have been perched on and approached them, head held high. I have to be calm and graceful.

"Get off it!" I shriek, so much for the calm approach, "Can't you leave it to die in peace or take it out of its misery?"

The boys turn around and look at me and snigger. I know every single one of their names but I'd bet you my bronze raven brooch that not one knows my name. I like to melt in the background, and suddenly I find myself the centre of attention, all the boys sneering at me.

"What is it, acne face?" The ringleader, Noah, jeers. I place a hand to my face defensively. It's not my fault I have spots. I let my hand drop down to show I'm not scared.

"My name is Lusa, and I think that you've had enough fun now, just let the poor creature die a peaceful death." I say, starting to stutter. I should have just sat back and ignored it, that's what I'm best at after all.

"Does it look like we care what you think?" Asks Noah, sneering maliciously at me. I freeze, terrified. I've just confronted a gang of boys who have just been torturing a poor raven; did I honestly expect them to understand? These boys have left me alone so far thanks to my ability to be at the back of the crowd and now I've turned that around. I was even stupid enough to give them my name. Luckily people like them only have the memory span of a goldfish. I step back, worried.

"No, no, I'm sorry. It was a terrible mistake." I stammer, feeling like myself once more. Then I do what I'm best at – I run. I make a dash for it and speed into the maze of alleyways, dodging and twisting as I hear Noah and his gang lumbering after me. I may be small and only twelve but I'm fast, and I lose them easily. I get to the bakery. My friend, Cata, helps her parents out here sometimes. I would prefer to go to my best friend; Selena's house, or even better, home. I'd charge in, welcomed with open arms by my mother, Rosalyn. Ever since my father abandoned me and my fifteen year-old sister started to go mad my mother has always loved me.

I'm a splitting image of her, fair skin, thin silky black hair that falls just fast my shoulders and hazel eyes. Apparently I look just like she did at my age. I barge into the bakery – it is a shop after all, and grab Cata's arm.

"Come on Cata, we'll be late for the reapings!" I say, tugging her along. I'm really not acting myself recently, and when have I been bothered about the reapings. Cata seems to know something is going on but she remains deathly silent and follows me to the town square.

Dallas Starconn

I leap out of bed like I do every morning. Usually my sister, Lana, would groan at me or tell me to go back to sleep, but it's the reaping today. I look into the mirror just to stare at my dark brown hair, deep blue eyes and healthy looking pale skin. My sister grunts something about being vain so I tell her she can talk. She spends half the time in front of the mirror, re-arranging her hairstyle or picking out an outfit for a party. She's eighteen so this is her last reaping, but I've got three years to go including today. Once today's over I've just got to worry about two more years, unless I get reaped, in which case I've got to worry about two more weeks before I enter the arena and am submitted to my inevitable death.

The topic of death has put a dampening to the cheery start of the morning so I rummage around in my drawer and pull out a crisp white shirt, plain red tie and long black trousers. It looks a bit like a school uniform probably because it is mine. Even though there is no school on the reaping day it's the smartest thing I own. I bend down and give my shoes a quick polish, spitting on a dirty rag and rubbing it. It may be crude but it's effective and that's all that matters.

I straighten my tie and go downstairs, avoiding my parents, no, sorry, _parent_, bedroom. My mother died a year back in an accident with a new food processing machine they tried out at her factory. She volunteered to test it because she knew if it was successful she would get an easier job. But now she's dead so it evidently wasn't.

I creak open the front door and exit outside, the fresh air breezing past my face. It's a rare occasion when all the factories close down and when it happens the usually black choky air turns crystal clear and I can breathe again. My lungs fill with the fresh air and my heart fills with joy. That's good, no, it's great. They should close the factories more often. Sometimes I think about district twelve having to mine all of the coal that feeds our fuel guzzling machines, but I guess district ten will wonder where their cows go. Well, I can tell you, the stench of animal meat fills the district at slaughter time and it really stinks.

I fiddle with the beaker made out of metal my mother made for me specially for my fifth birthday. I was too young to understand the significance of the item; she must have cheekily stole materials from the factory. If she was caught she would have been whipped or worse, shot. I move swiftly over to my next door neighbour's house. It's like a second home to me where Gina and George, the twins from my year live. I don't bother to knock and don't worry about waking anyone up, it seems they're always awake.

"I'm home!" I call jokingly and they both come charging down the stairs, their sandy blonde shoulder length hair making it hard to distinguish which one's which, even though Gina is a girl. I smile cheerily at them and we exchange the usual greetings that we do every morning.

"So what brings you to our-" Gina starts and George completes the sentence, "-humble abode?"

I smile. That trick has freaked out plenty of people; somehow they finish off each other's sentences without a pause. It's quite creepy.

"I've come to pick you up for the reaping." I say, not that they need picking up or anything. They both follow me out of the house down the street towards the town square where the names will be picked for the reapings.

_The strange woman grinned through clenched teeth and strutted up to the stage, her face plastered in makeup, fishnet tights and a sick green/yellow tulip skirt along with a horrific leopard print tight top and lacy cardigan, completed off with clicking bright red high heels. She looked like every crime to fashion bundled into one, all she needed now was shoulder pads and she'd be complete._

"_Hello ladies and gentlemen!" She calls, a fake smile plastered on her lips between her curled blonde bob, "I know you've been awaiting this day with great anticipation, so let me be the one to tell you who the lucky lady is!" She cooed, bringing great annoyance to the district._

"_Our very own darling chosen to represent district nine is the elegant Lusa Canvis!" She called, her smile now coming a bit of a grimace as Luca walks up, her silky black hair tumbling just below her shoulders and spotty face hastily tried to have been covered up. She looks terribly shocked and her mouth forms an 'O' shape as she clenches her hands and stumbles on the stage, dazed as if it was a dream._

"_Ah, darling, you look so... radiant," Softened the escort, evidently in dislike, "Now, our handsome swooping hero shall be... George Sunrise!"_

_There was a hush from the crowd and The sandy-haired boy with hair down to his shoulders stepped up to the stage._

"_George! No!" Shouted two voices at the same time, one from the sixteen year-old girl's section, the other from the boys._

_There was a pause and George started ascending the steps then a voice hastily called out._

"_I, I volun, I volunteer!" it shouts clearly, and a boy rushes up to the stage, his hair dark brown and his eyes an ocean blue. He pats George on the back and climbs up the stage and faces the escort._

"_I'm Dallas Starconn and I'm volunteering for my friend, George Sunrise." Says the boy, carefully placing his words and looking a bit shocked._

"_Very well, then lets shake hands, shall we?" The escort asks, addressing the twelve and sixteen year-olds like they are five. They firmly grip each other's hands and sense the determination in each of their eyes._

Lusa Canvis

I'm shocked; I can't believe what had just happened. How come I had just been reaped? I swear that's not possible, yet here I am standing on the stage shaking hands with a boy I'm going to have to kill to survive and it frightens me very much.

Dallas Starconn

I can see Gina and George's adoring faces in the crowd, thanking me so much. I'm sure they'll be a mixture of tears, thanks and anger. But why did I do it? Why did I condemn myself instead of George? I don't know for certain but I think that split second decision might have just killed me.

**Please review! =D Especially if you created these characters! I'm always free for PMs too, you know! =D I've got to go to sleep now but I'll be back in the morning! =D REVIEW!**


	11. D10 Reapings

**These are flying out! Right, now I've changed a bit... a lot... about Willow. And now Mitchel's father runs a butchers instead of working in a slaughter house. Sorry! =D Please don't kill me for making Willow an airhead and Mitchel a total utter squirt, but that's how it went. I don't control these things, it's my subconcious. It's really scary, once I had prepared an ending for this story, I sat down and wrote it, checked it out fifty miutes later and i had some weird totally different thing! =D I especially liked Willow, so give me a wave if you created her because I like it, well, the *ahem* 'slightly' modified version anyway! =D**

**Oh, and the escort's a bit, well, you'll see...**

**D10**

Willow Grams

Why does my hair never keep straight? I pull it and prod it, I've probably been through every hair technique known to girl yet it just flops back into its useless blonde curls with the odd brown highlight. I mean, come on, this is reaping day for goodness sake! This is when you get squished up in a pen like the cattle we farm and then watch all the tributes come by. All I can say is I hope it's a hot guy this year. Me and my friends all crowd around them, blowing kisses and using every flirtatious technique under the sun to get one of them to volunteer. I only ever worked once when my best friend, Blossom, kissed this nerd who had had a crush on her for his whole entire life. He went crazy and volunteered like she asked him to. It was hilarious! You should have seen his face when he walked out of the visiting rooms and Blossom hadn't come! Of course he died in the bloodbath, but what does that matter? We got him into the games and we felt on top of the world.

Of course the whole airhead thing is just an act, I'm actually quite clever and I could probably fit in with the geeks if I wanted to, but who would? I mean, you can't be popular and clever at the same time. Those two traits just don't mix. OK, I've flunked school and now I'm being threatened with being held back a year, but I don't care. I mean, I'm sixteen. I can just drop out and go and marry some rich farmer or something, all the boys are clamouring all over us.

We're basically the five most unobtainable girls in the school. Blossom's just wild and is a real laugh, always joking and winding the guys around her little finger, her crazy red hair about as fiery as her temper. Then blonde-haired May drops boys like she does plates at her job as a waitress the pub, she's had so many boyfriends she's lost count. Sassy is drop dead gorgeous but you'll drop dead if you go anywhere near her because she's lethal and knows about a hundred ways to break your spine. Her hair's as black as all the belts she's got in karate, you name it, and she's done it. Then there's Coco, she has had one steady boyfriend for the last four years and they never get bored of each other, they just plod along happily. Then finally there's me, faking being thick so I can hang out with them, faking I'm someone I'm not.

They don't know I get up at five every morning to milk Misty, our cow, just to keep my family alive. They don't know I walk back from school every day via the outskirts of the woods because I need the firewood to keep our house lit, not to become 'well fit'. They don't know that I tuck my two younger brothers into bed each night because my mother has neglected them with her wild partying and frivolous activities. They don't know that I've had to apply for tesserae every year to hold my family up. They don't know that I, Willow Grams, keep my family alive.

I stand outside of Blossom's house, back straight and head held aloft. Then I see the door creak open and I slouch onto the fence and start playing with my hair. I know that Blossom has to greet me first; it's a subconscious dominant thing. I learnt that in psychology when I was pretending to be writing horrible notes about the teacher. Well, I actually did, but this girl can do more than one thing at a time, I'm not completly useless.

"Hi, Willow." Blossom calls to me as I slouch uncomfortably by the fence. Ouch! That's painful.

"Hi, Blo!" I call, deliberately shortening her name. I learnt that in psychology too. She grins at me and I wait for her to come down her garden path. She has a garden, I envy her. All we have is a small patch of turf where Misty grazes.

"Come on," She says to me, tugging my arm, "Let's see if we can get anyone to volunteer this year!"

Mitchel Rye

I wake up to the sound of meat cleavers being sharpened on the grinding stone. That will be my dad, up as early as ever, already opening the butchers with my two elder brothers at his side. But today the butchers won't open, today one of my brothers will stay at home and my seventeen year-old brother, Nico, who is only three years older than me will drag me to the reaping with him. Somehow my brothers convinced dad that I should take all the tesserae of the family, so I'm the one who is loaded with the death sentence just hanging above me. I'm scared, but I won't let that show, well, not to my brothers anyway, they'd just try and beat me up.

My father and brothers are huge, and terrify me. If they went in the hunger games then they'd have a fair chance of survival, be me? Well, look at me. I look like a ten year old with my height, even though I'm actually fourteen, my bright blue eyes, freckles and really short dark brown hair so dark it almost looks black, why so short? Well, my father insisted, which wasn't too great for me since I now look almost bald. My friends had a great laugh at me when they saw it. I don't own my friends or anything; I'm just part of them. I'm the person who just likes to sit back, relax and enjoy the show.

Apparently I look like my mother, but I wouldn't know, she died in childbirth having me. And guess who father and my brothers blame? You got it, not the nurses, not themselves, not even mother, no, they blame me! It's not my fault that these things happen I was in no power or control whatsoever about the situation. I don't even remember it! They're just stupid. I shake my head in disgust and trample over the room to find some clothes to wear.

I shove on some baggy camouflage trousers, a black polo shirt and slip into some trainers. Who needs to dress up for the reaping? I know some of the girls from school will be dolling up, putting on ridiculously short dresses and even using makeup. It's ridiculous how much girls pay to look nice, it's just stupid, especially since they don't end up looking nice at the end of it I get to the top of the stairs and slide down the banister, almost crashing into my Nico on the way down. He shoves me away from it.

"Watch it, creep!" My brother says, "Now, father says I have to take you to the reaping, because you're such a tiny baby that you need someone to guide you to stop you walking into walls." Nico pinches my cheek but I just thump his arm and storm off in front of him.

"Be careful crossing the road!" He yells sarcastically after me.

_A strange woman, almost a teenager, with bright orange skin and green spiky hair comes on stage chewing some sort of gum. Before the mayor has even finished his speech, she almost shoves him out of the way._

"_Alright. Thanks mayor, yada yada yada, onto the interesting bit! Now, let's see whose life is going to suck... I mean be generally amazing as they fight to the death!" She says, muttering the bit about whose life is going to suck._

"_Right, the victim, sorry, victor, is... ooh, look! That's an interesting name! It's the name of a tree, any guessers?" The crowd goes deathly silent as the stroppy orange teenager spits out the gum and sticks it on the microphone, causing it to crackle."Come on, well, no wonder they say the people in the districts have a low IQ." There is a shocked silence and then a bit of murmuring whispers through the crowd._

"'_K, 'K, it's Willow Grams!" the escort has somehow managed to make the Capitol accent sound even more ridiculous than it already is, by adding extra syllables and cutting bits off. It sounds like the Capitol equivalent of slang._

"_Come up, sugar!" calls the escort, beckoning a slightly frightened looking sixteen year-old up onto the stage, "Don't worry, the worst thing that could happen is you could die!" She calls. Somehow the district has a feeling that this is the first and last time they'll be seeing this escort._

"_Go Willow!" Shouts a chorus of girls' voices and the camera zooms in on them. They look like your typical rich airheads and they wave excitedly at the camera. There is a wolf-whistle coming from the boy section and the blonde-haired one blushes._

"'_K, keep your hair straightened!" Calls the escort to the girls and she grabs the top name in the reaping ball, "So, come up here, Mitchel Rye or you'll get shot!"_

_A boy who looks about ten creeps up to the stage, his almost black hair cut so he's almost bald._

"_Ah! A twelve year-old!" Sighs the escort._

"_I'm fourteen." Points out Mitchel angrily, more than a bit frustrated at that._

"_Whatever luvvie, shake hands and get it over with!" Snarls the escort and then winks at the cameras._

Willow Grams

I wish they'd stop cheering, don't they know it's my death that all of my friends are celebrating? The only one who isn't is Sassy, but I don't know if that's for her image or she actually understands. Either way, I'm no longer friends with them anymore. If I die then so be it, but if I live then I'm certainly not hanging around with them anymore. I'll tell them when they visit me, they'll be sure to. But I have to get back, because if I don't I have no idea how my brothers will survive.

Mitchel Rye

Where was my brother? Nico was in age, he could have saved me. He has a chance in there, whereas me, well, I don't think I have even the slightest glimpse of hope of getting out of there alive. I'll yell at him when he visits me and I'll finally put my foot down, and if he doesn't visit I'll yell at him on national TV on Panem, and then he'll be sorry he didn't volunteer. Then he'll be sorry.

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! My subconcious is easily swayed by lots of nice reviews! =D**


	12. D11 Reapings

**I tried to cut down on the cheese for Nate's part but I don't think it worked. Ah well... Just D1 to go and then we're learning the training scores, doing the interviews and into the games! One question - should I do all the interviews from Caesar Flickerman's poit of view? Look at a one shot I did for him in 'The Realisation of Hunger' and tell me, I'm dying to know!**

**D11**

Thistle Clay

I find tears welling in my eyes. I try to push them back but I can't. I fumble with the ring my boyfriend gave me when he proposed to me two years ago on my sixteenth birthday, on the day before he was murdered. I slip the ring on, the diamond glinting in the light. It must have cost him a fortune, but Whistle was one for extravagance. He would never do something half done; everything had to be done properly. I guess that's the trait which got him killed. He had stayed behind at work that day; he always made sure he got a job done, especially at his work, sorting apples, it was basic but if I had a job too it would have kept us both alive, maybe with one child as long as they applied for tesserae. But he had seen something, I don't know what. All I know was I got a hurried call with him frantically gabbling about something being sabotaged and then a horrific scream. Yes, I had heard my fiancé die.

It turns out someone had tampered with the machine, a rival company probably, just to get a larger order, and because of that my future husband died. I close my eyes to wipe the thoughts from my mind. In sorrow I turned to Tom, my friend, we went out for about half a year but he ended it because it just wasn't working, I was missing Whistle too much. Everyone used to joke about it, Whistle and Thistle, an odd name for a couple. People thought we were siblings, we were almost identical, like me he had rosy cheeks and an olive complexion, red/brown lips and grey eyes with little flickers of green in them. He could have been my long lost brother. I sniffle a bit and turn to my real brother, Lochie, who is staring at me.

"Whistle." I croak and Lochie nods knowingly and leaves. He's so nice, he's fifteen now but he fears the reapings. When he was twelve he got reaped but his best friend's elder brother volunteered for him, he was a really nice guy. Of course he didn't last ten seconds. There aren't room for nice people in the hunger games.

Every year he hates this day, dreads it, and so do I. We all do really, the hunger games are just a sick creation and whoever invented them should go straight in the arena with the rest of the Capitol. I shiver and step into a short navy blue dress which's bottom is uneven and just comes up to my thigh. I smile and slip into some sleek black boots which almost cover up the large expanse of my legs which have been left uncovered – almost.

I go downstairs and see my cousin, Lessie. Her parents died in an accident at the orchards, when a tree fell on them. My father was devastated but it didn't really matter much to Lessie, she was only three at the time, I was only two. She came and moved in with us and she's almost like a sister to me. She has straight red hair almost reaching down to her waist, always immaculate and deep brown caring eyes.

"Hey Thistle," Lessie says, handing a bowl of porridge to me, "You look nice." She's trying to divert my attention from the reaping because she knows how worried I get over it, terrified Lochie will get picked. I'm making sure he never takes tesserae, ever. I'm eighteen so I'll get a job and help everyone out, we're all in this together here.

I smile at her and sit down at the table, listening carefully to Lochie's rude jokes. If only the reaping weren't today it would be almost normal. Almost. Without any parents here it is weird. My mother died when I was ten and my father started taking morphling. I love him very much but I just don't trust him around Lochie.

Nate Morgue

I sit next to Isabella by the lake, skipping stones. The next stone sinks to the bottom of the lake, settling on the bottom. I reach to the side to get another stone and my hand touches Isabella's, brushing her skin, my hand quickly jerks away and I comb it through my long black hair, looking the other way. Eventually I turn and look at Isabella, staring into her sharp green eyes. Her black hair has been let to fall loosely to her shoulders for once instead of tied up in a braid and the way she looks at me seems to be saying something to me.

"So how are you, Bella?" I ask, trying to strike up a conversation

"My name is NOT Bella, call me Izzy or Is, and whatever you do don't follow my stupid brother's example and call me ringing bell!" Isabella says, mock angry. Isabella just can't get angry, not at me anyway.

"Bella," I say, rolling the word over my tongue, "that's pretty in Italian."

Isabella's cheeks go bright red and she turns away abruptly and speaks so I won't see her face.

"Unfortunately, as you know very well Italy and the rest of the world is gone." She turns around to face me, "You can only read so much in books, Nate."

I feel my cheeks burning too, our eyes locked for a moment and then she pulls away, staring back into the dreamy lake. I pause, relishing the silence for a moment and then turn to her. It's time for me to get this out.

"It's reaping today, Bella," She winces as I call her that, "And my name is in that orb twenty three times even though I'm only fourteen. The chances are I'm going to be picked sometime."

Isabella looks at me worriedly, "Don't think that." She murmurs, but I can see doubt creeping into her face too.

"It's going to happen Bella, I'm sure of it. I'm something of a scapegoat. I take all my family's tesserae. Amanda's started this year and no doubt she'll be followed by Vee, Klaus, Hector and the new kid my mum's carrying. Whether you like it or not, I'm going to die."

Then Isabella does the most un-Isabella like thing ever. She leans over and kisses me. I'm too shocked to do anything. My hands wave frantically about. It feels like I'm drowning. I've never kissed a girl before and it was so unexpected I don't know what to think. Suddenly Isabella jerks back, looking more shocked than I am.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" She gabbles, taking my blank expression as upset, not wonder. Isabella just kissed me and I realize something that has been hidden inside me for so long.

"I love you." I say, and then clasp my hand over my mouth. I can't believe I said that and neither can Isabella by the looks of it, her mouth is wide open in disbelief and soon I realize mine is too because it's true. I gulp and stand up, leaving Isabella sitting still, in shock. Then I scurry away before I'm faced with the answer. I scamper away to the reapings, thoughts whizzing around my head like cannon fire. I can't believe it, Isabella just kissed me and I told her I loved her! I yelp and dash forward, worrying. Will she be angry, sad or happy, does she have anyone else? I ignore my thoughts and dash to the town square and into the fourteen year-old boy's section. I can't believe it.

_The escort, a funny looking man with a permanent sneer fixed upon his face and plastic looks, struggles onto the stage. He speaks nasally and walks with a limp, some paper in his hand._

"_Hello district eleven, your escort, that's me, will now choose your female tribute. Put hand in reaping ball and pull out-" He pauses when he realizes he's been reading the instructions on the script he seems to have prepared._

"_Read name on slip." Murmurs the escort and then glances quizzically at the slip, "Thistle Clay, is that right? Yes, Thistle Clay!"_

_A girl from the eighteen year-old section lets a single tear trickle down her cheek. She goes up to the fifteen year-old boy's section and kisses an almost identical boy on the cheek and then glances at someone in the crowd, as if to say 'look after him'. She climbs up to the stage and shakily takes her place._

"_Now – male reaping ball... pull out... read name... ah yes, sorry, it's Nate Morgue!" He calls out, for once a sneer wiped off his face._

_A fourteen year-old boy with a white and blue chequered shirt, long black hair, a light tan and hazel brown eyes, strides up to the stage, looking more confident than a fourteen year-old boy condemned to death should be. He grasps the female tribute's floppy hand and shakes it._

"_You're meant to do that after I tell you." Whines the escort, clearly of distaste towards the boy._

Thistle Clay

I just hope that Lessie looks after Lochie and doesn't pack him off to my dad, I had to scrape together with Lessie all our wages to move out just to get Lochie safe. I hope Lessie understands and keeps him above water when I'm dead. It must be hard losing a sister after a mother and having to move away from your father, at least he has Lessie. I have no-one.

Nate Morgue

My face turns sour – I didn't want this to happen now. I'll never know Isabella's answer. I knew the reaping was inevitable but really, I thought I would be OK this year; I was too preoccupied with my life to be thinking about the end of it. But my luck has run out today, and a good spell must be returned by a worse one. Even if it was a kiss for a life I'm happy that it happened because now I think about it there's nothing to my life without Isabella. Bella.

**Go look at the oneshot in 'The Realisation of Hunger' about Caesar Flickerman and tell me if I should do all the interviews in his point of view, to get an outward eye if you know what I mean!**


	13. D12 Reapings

**When I said 'give me some leeway' I didn't mean that much! I made up a lot, and from one word answers to questions I muddled together a story for these two district twelve tributes! Tell me what you think, especially the creators, and don't be afraid to give criticism! I didn't really like this chapter, but that's how the cookie crumbles (I hate that phrase). So read and review, especially their creators. I want you to be honest with me! I think this is the length I'll be using for most of the reapings - 1 page for the girl, 1 page for the boy and 1 page for the reaping overall! =D**

**D12**

Match Lyte

I wake up. The first feeling that fills me is dread, then probably hunger. It's the reapings today and with my brother, Flame, having just turned nineteen, I've taken on all the tesserae of the family. I shiver at the thought of my name coming out of the reaping ball. I'm probably no different than the others, but living in the Seam toughens you up and makes you put up with things like that. I know for sure that the mayor's daughter won't be chosen nor the head peacekeeper's or the owner of the mine's. But me? The daughter of a dead coal miner and a maid in the mayor's household? No way am I going to be able to live if I get in, and the odds definitely aren't in my favour. I stand up shakily and have to grip the rotting bed post to steady myself. I'm surprisingly strong for one so fragile, but don't let that fall you. I'm no match for any careers that would come my way in the arena.

I pale slightly; my olive skin and grey eyes show everything of a girl from the Seam. Malnourished, weak, I wouldn't stand a second. But what makes me different from everyone else here is my fiery red hair, burning into the light that flickers my candle or the even worse shot of electricity when it does come. I just hope whoever goes into the reapings stands a chance unlike me. I'm a weakling, or so people think.

My friends, the other people like me, poor, dirty, hungry, forever hungry, they know what I mean. I may not be physically strong but I have a will, a determination to live, which flings all thoughts of doubt aside and keeps me fresh and always alert, but that wouldn't keep me alive in the arena if I was to go.

I stumble towards my two sets of clothes I have strewn aside on the floor, careful not to wake Flame. This is his day off, even if it is one of horror. When he turned eighteen he went straight down the mines and hasn't looked back since. His health has been deteriorating, but we have food on the table so that's enough. I shove on the clothes I've had washed the most recently, baggy grey school trousers and a cream top with a soup stain on it. Oh, soup. How I relish every mouthful. I find myself licking the stain again and again just trying to get a tingle off the full flavour, the body of the food. But if I get the taste I don't get the nutrition, which is what I really need.

I creep out of the room, but am interrupted by a groan coming from Flame. I freeze; I don't want to wake him up on his one day off. Luckily he doesn't stir so I slowly shuffle out of the room into our kitchen and general living area where my mother is sleeping. I'm not surprised she's tired as I sneak out of the house and into the bitter air. She works herself to the bone after all. I can't wait till I'm sixteen. It's just two years to go and then I can get a job and help mother out, then Flame can move out and get married like he's been trying to do for years, but we've been tying him down.

I don't want to be a burden but I can't help it if I'm too afraid of the peacekeepers to lie about my age. I could certainly pass for sixteen if I needed too. But no, I wouldn't do that. Yes, that's me – Match Lyte, the coward.

Braxlin Coal

I walk out of my house before my mother gets up. If she does the pure loathing would just seep out of her, I'm sure. She hates me, just as my father did no doubt when he took one look at me and ran away. My mother blames me of course, the old bat. Not that she's particularly old; it's just she acts like she is, forever moaning and being generally mean to me. I push my foggy glasses up my nose and stumble through the Seam. It's quite misty this morning, the Capitol will probably do something about that, though, they can't have a beautiful natural thing such as mist ruin their camera shots, oh no, they'll purge the beauty and hope from the world.

Why do I love mist so much? Well, no-one can see you for starters. As well, I think that I like to stay hidden, and mist seems mysterious and creepy. You would have never thought that I would be so easily by the looks of me. Well, OK, you probably would. Like most people around here I have misty grey eyes, a black mop of hair and olive skin and am underfed. Unlike most people here I am very, very short and have glasses which I'm quite dependant on. If it hadn't been the case my mother wouldn't have bought them for me, but no, I'm practically blind without my glasses.

I shrink away at a loud clashing sound at the other side of the street and suddenly bump into someone. I gape at them, open mouthed. What are the chances of me meeting him? He manages to knock the thought of my head by clipping me around the ear. I never like bullies and I never liked being bullied, but speaking just makes them worse, I've learnt the hard way. I shrink back from him and bump into his twin brother. I can't tell which one is which. Firstly, because of all the fog and secondly, they're identical. Joseph and Moses are the two most evil people I have ever met, despite their names. They both have squashed flat noses like they've been in a boxing accident, short black hair which almost makes them skin heads and bristly stubble on their flat faces. You wouldn't know it, but the two hulks which are twice the size of me are only one year older, they're only fourteen.

The one I just bumped into kicks by violently on the shin and I collapse, clutching it in pain. I really hope they get reaped, because I know what they're going to ask me and I know what my answer is and I really know they aren't going to like it.

"Where's the food, squirt?" Asks one I'll have to suppose is Moses, violently slapping the side of my head, causing my glasses to slip down. I quickly jerk them up and try to cut out the pain which will follow the next sentence that I say to them. I was meant to smuggle food out from my house under my mother's nose which I have been doing for the past year, but she caught me and gave me a beating to rival Joseph and Moses'.

"I didn't get it." I squeak and the one who therefore is Joseph smashes his fist down into my shoulder causing my bone to shift. I'm sure it's not meant to do that. My nerves there are screaming at me but I know worse will come soon.

"Speak up!" Growled Joseph angrily, glaring at me, "We have to eat somehow, squirt." _So do I,_ I want to say, but I know it would get me into deeper trouble than I am already in. I draw in my breath and curl into a defensive ball. Whatever happens now ignore the pain, just ignore the pain.

"I DIDN'T GET IT!" I shout and then there's only one thing in the world which I can think of. The pain.

_A frightening magenta pink skinned lady smiles crookedly at the district, her bleached white hair too dazzling to look at, if anyone actually wanted to look at it. She waves at district twelve cheerily and introduces the one mentor district twelve has, Iante Great and he definitely is great. He's a hulk of a man, rivalling even Father Christmas in size. His fiery red hair matched his temper and he scares everyone a great deal. _

"_Let's hear the gentleman first, shall we?" Coos the escort in her ridiculous accent, now having stopped bothered trying to entertain this district, they just weren't into the spirit. "The luck winner is... Braxlin Coal!"_

_There's a deadly pause among the district and everyone turns their heads. Where is the condemned? There's a shuffling of feet, yet no-one comes up._

"_Braxlin Coal?" asks the escort again, this time a bit impatient. She holds up the piece of paper in her hand, "Thirteen, from the Seam?" There is still no answer, and then suddenly someone shouts out._

"_He's fainted!" Calls the voice and the escort shakes her head pitifully, "Some people just don't get enough fresh air." She mutters and then turns to the female's reaping ball. She digs her hand in and brings it out with a name of a tribute._

"_Right! Now the lovely lady is Match Lyte!" She chirps, but is met with silence again. She calls out again desperately. "Match Lyte? Please don't say she's fainted too!"_

_But soon she was slowly ascending the steps reproachfully. Braxlin had been revived and was being shoved up onto the stage where stood there, bewildered, his glasses steamed up and he was sopping from head to toe because of the bucket of water Iante had just chucked over him. But instead of Braxlin, Iante was staring, mesmerised at Match. I scowled at him and he turned his head away, an unusual property for a gruff mentor such as himself._

_The escort propped Braxlin up and he light headedly shook hands with Match, her grip surprisingly light for one so agile._

Match Lyte

That's it. I'm dead. I push tears back into my eyes and keep a straight face. I can cry once I get into the visitor's room where I'll see my mother and brother. I'll cry with them, not this scrawny boy in front of me, pitifully propped up by a chair. When I get there I'll cry.

Braxlin Coal

Everything is spinning. I'm shaking hands with someone. Who? My thoughts are writhing in my head, trying to make sense of what's happening. Something's happening, something big. What day is it? The thought hits me off guard and I stumble just to be pushed back forwards again by a rough man with an even rougher face. I recognise that face, but I can't quite put my finger on a name to go with it. Ian, no, too common, Dante, no, not that, a mix. Iante! As soon as the name flies into my head so does all the other feelings and what happens hits me yet again. I'm unconscious before I hit the floor.


	14. Training Scores

**This chapter has been 'cleaned up' to make it easier and more enjoyable for you lot to read.**

**Despite how rubbish this looks I actually spent quite a bit of time deciding the scores, it's a lot harder than it looks. The lowest score is two and the highest is ten, and remember - the characters in this are now mine, as I have altered them and I can use them as I will. This is _not _an interactive story quite simply because you will not be altering any of it (no sponsoring, no choosing what will happen). All that happens is you give me the rough outline for characters, that is all. I am truly grateful for the help you lot have given me with coming up with the characters and I can promise you I'll never use them again in something else; just now they have to be officially accepted as mine, so I can edit them and use them as I wish within this story. Thank you so much!**

* * *

><p><p>

A childish giggle escapes from my lips as the other Gamemakers glare me down.

"An acceptable career is a score of about seven to eleven, a good non-career higher than seven, an average tribute four to six and below that they're pretty much stuffed unless they're faking, right?" I ask gleefully and a few Gamemakers nod grimly. I think they've just about put up with me. They think I'm crazy, which I couldn't disagree with them about, but I do pick up quickly. I glance back down at the paper in front of me and giggle again. It reads:

_Tournaline "Tour" Solier - 6_

_Destiny Bond - 8_

_Shale Overheart - 5_

_Twira Hearthright - 10_

_Cole Dallan - 5_

_Quazza Williowwhisper - 4_

_Roderick "Rod" Giffords - 9_

_Lainey Rain - 8_

_Arcturus "Arc" Starre - 4_

_Fenora Kensington - 6_

_Brink Freeman - 2_

_Reena Woodson - 7_

_Axel Leaf - 6_

_Lindsey Gray - 5_

_Robert Tars - 3_

_Tessinal "Tess" Carter - 4_

_Dallas Starconn - 4_

_Lusa Canvis - 5_

_Mitchel Rye -6_

_Willow Grams - 7_

_Nate Morgue - 5_

_Thistle Clay - 6_

_Braxlin Coal - 2_

_Match Lyte - 2_

"Average, career, average, career, average, average, career, career," I sing in a playful voice. The other Gamemakers glare me down and I let out another giggle and continue with my little song, "average, average, stuffed, great, average, average, stuffed, average, average, average, average, great, average, average, stuffed, stuffed!"

By the time I have finished the looks of pure loathing on my fellow Gamemakers' faces are so hateful that I am surprised I manage to keep my cheeky little grin up.

"Encore?" I squeak just in time to hear every single Gamemaker to bellow the same thing in my direction:

"NO!"

* * *

><p><strong>OK - I was cracking up listening to you all whining about the scores. I don't think everyone's happy with them, sorry, but I was trying to be harsh and I think it worked judging by your sobs. It's all ok, not everyone can be like Katniss and Peeta, remember? By the way - that random Gamemaker I added was just random, as is pretty much any Gamemaker I write which isn't the Gamemaker meetings (well, those are random too). Anyway, I hope you enjoy things and keep reading.<strong>


	15. Introduction to Interviews

**Firstly – it's the 153****rd**** Hunger Games so how can Caesar still be alive? I have no idea – maybe there's some advanced Capitol medicine or something, it doesn't really matter, the date isn't really meant to make sense, it really just isn't important. What DOES matter is that I've got this short thing now and more shall come, just I'm having to slow down a bit because I'm back at one of the torture houses for education. Everyone's separate interviews will soon come though! =D**

I look in the mirror, my bubblegum pink hair disgusting, bright and vibrant. It's exactly the sort of thing the Capitol makes me do. I put on my best fake smile and try to keep my chin up – I may hate the Capitol but I'll get killed if I don't put on a good show. Although my smile is fake and my expression forced a cheer erupts from the crowd of Capitol citizens, oblivious to the butchery they are all psyched up to watch. I grin and wave and the only people who don't cheer back are the twenty-four tributes, sat rigidly in a line of seats at the front, waiting for their inevitable deaths. It's in my hands to save them and although I may just seem like an old Capitol fool I have a trick or two up my sleeve and I know what I have to do to try and help these tributes out. I could be the difference of life and death to them.

I feel my palms start to go sweaty so I wring my hands lightly together and stare right into the camera and force out my most dazzling smile. It may hurt but it's all for the tributes.

"Hello citizens of Panem!" I chirp, hamming up my already unnaturally strong Capitol accent. "Don't tell me you didn't miss me because I know it isn't true!"

Ugh, this makes me feel sick. But I can't protest – that's just how things are. I can't let any of my true feelings come across. They may miss me but I certainly wouldn't miss them. Can't they just go away and leave me alone, continuing with their heartless lives and leaving me in peace? I stare blankly at the camera, my mouth still excruciatingly wide.

"Right Panem, you all want this to start so let's get this party started! Now, I better call in our first tribute to the hot seat, and then we can really get this show on the road!"

**It's painfully short but I didn't want to put my first interview in there now. Well, I'll start the proper interviews tomorrow; I'm going to sleep now!**


	16. D1 Interviews

**D1**

I smile at the camera again, ignoring the glazed over looked that I have shoved into my eyes to disguise the hatred and the glare that I have hastily switched into a grin.

"Hello Tournaline!" I grin, trying to keep up the happy smile.

"Call me Tour." corrects Tournaline, a grin on his face almost as forced as mine. Good, he knows what he has to do; he should be going for the likeable approach with that entrance. Every word placed is like art, every syllable that hops out of your mouth a twinkle of paint. It could ruin or perfect your painting – you just need to know where to put it.

"So Tour, you volunteered. Why?" I ask. I might as well go straight in – there seems no point dithering.

"Why do you think?" Tour asks, not rudely and bluntly as the words might seem, but mischievous and sneaky by the way he has a dangerous twinkle in his eye and he twisted the words to fit his meaning. His escort taught him well.

"Well, I wanted all the glory, Caesar. I mean, who wouldn't? It's just that sometimes these things happen and you suddenly find yourself thinking things like 'I should have tuna in my sandwich' or 'I should volunteer for the hunger games'." He explains and I smile at him, only half forced this time.

"You're comparing choosing which filling to put in your sandwich to volunteering in the hunger games?" I tease, causing a slight ripple of laughter through the crowds. Good, that went well, maybe I should use that approach more often.

"Well, I've always been one to make split-second decisions. I guess it makes me both alert and ready. I don't ponder around, no matter what the scale of the decision is – I just do!"

This boy is a genius! He's turned it back onto himself and even something stupid sounds like one of his strengths. He's likeable, witty and alert. I would almost fall for his act myself if I didn't know what every tribute has done time and time again. I grin helpfully at Tour, screaming inside knowing that he could be dead all in the name of revenge in the next few days.

"Well, one more thing Tour – the opposition." I say to him, leaning in as if he's about to share a secret. He does leans forward too, his escort's been busy. He beckons me closer and I lean in, soaking up the moment.

"Destiny is one lethal chick, that's all I'm saying!" Grins Tournaline, winking at Destiny in the crowd. Her face turns red with anger and she snarls ferociously at the camera as it zooms in on her face to show her distaste towards Tour. I smile, rivalry and flirting, all in one interview – this guy's got promise!

"Thanks Tour, now it looks like your time is up..." I hold a finger in the air to pause for a couple of seconds, "Now! You can sit back down; don't worry, I'll sort out the opposition!"

"I'll count on it!" calls Tournaline as he stomps towards the tribute's seats and Destiny gets up, her icily cold glare bearing into him.

I let my smile melt and put on a sorry look. I guess this girl is going to go for the sob story of her life. She's an orphan after her parents were burnt to a crisp in a fire that destroyed both her home and her hopes. I won't tell the Capitol that she's been training to kill since birth, I think the whole raw talent thing comes across a lot better to the Capitol audience.

"Destiny!" I coo, "Sit down, sit down, take a seat."

She freezes momentarily, perfectly aware of all the cameras gnawing into her, then sits down and smiles at me coolly.

"So Destiny, Destiny Bond, that's an interesting name, isn't it? Any history behind it?" I ask, probably more out of curiosity for the Capitol audience. I want to make them feel that they know Destiny out there behind their screens so that she'll get more sponsors and I'll get a better rest of my heart.

"My parents are – were – great people and they had great hopes for me, and I guess they'll be fulfilled soon Caesar." Destiny says, bringing a warm smile to her face which slightly warms my heart.

"Were?" I ask, as if I had no idea they're dead, "What do you mean 'were'?" Hopefully this will stir up something inside her, and it does.

"They perished in a fire together, along with my home and heart alongside it. Since then I have sworn to avenge them and what they stand for – everything good in this world. Since then I have sold my soul to the art of battle and war because I hope, just hope, that one day, no matter how far away, they will be proud of me and will finally, peacefully, slip away, proud of their daughter and what I've done." She says, a single tear meandering its way down her cheek. I can feel the upset in the audience and can even hear my younger sister, Minty, start sobbing hysterically.

She's an out of work actress and a pretty good one if I say so myself, she helps me out with the crowds reactions and just like I thought I hear one or two voices join her. She's an angel in human form and has helped me out of many tricky situations. She's even gained tributes a sponsor or two, resulting in some of their lives being saved so I am telling the truth when I call her a life saver.

"OK – I can tell you're upset Destiny, but can you tell me about your training score – what's the secret behind the eight?" I ask and I can almost feel the crowd breathing down my neck, desperately wanting to know.

"I'm afraid telling you that would also mean telling the other tributes that and I just can't let myself have a disadvantage in the arena." She says and I know that those very words are worming their way into the simple Capitol minds, convincing them that she doesn't have any disadvantages or weaknesses. "But I can tell you one thing knowing that the other tributes will be listening – don't underestimate me!"

I grin at her, but mainly at the cameras, and flash a smile.

"I think that's all we've got time for Destiny, though I think I can say for all of us we wish we had more time. Goodbye and good luck!"

I smile, played perfectly. The two tributes from district one have exceeded my expectations – they have both played their cards spot on so far. But I'm only a bit in and as I see Destiny sit back down and the male tribute for district two step up I know one thing for sure – this is going to be a long night.

**Like it? Hate it? Please tell me so I can improve! =D**


	17. D2 Interviews

**About swearing - I don't really like putting in swearing because I think it destroys the character, in answer to a couple of reviews thanking me that I haven't put any in. I just warn you - if they're in the games and suddenly a character cries out "Wigglypuff!", "Curse the crows," "Mottled Mushrooms," or any other equally weird and wonderful phrases (I just made those three up - I love 'mottled mushrooms') then it's because I don't want to totally wreck the character, so there's a pre - warning for you! =D **

*** Reference to 'The Realisation of Hunger'**

**D2**

Shale Overheart steps up to the stage and settles in the new human skin seat* which has just replaced the old leather one – another show of the Capitol and President Snow's barbaric ways. Really, I just don't get them. What they do is so monstrous, so horrific...

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Shale glaring at me, waiting for me to start the interview. I realize it looks like I've been staring gormlessly at him, not at the chair, so I straighten up and smile uselessly at him. He doesn't return the smile. I look at him curiously again. Surely with only a slightly muscled build he wouldn't be acting tough? But I stare at him and my suspicions are conferred when I greet him and he just grunts in reply. I guess they could have done better but this boy must have been really bad at likeable if they're trying to wing off the tough approach. Either that or he was really bad at tough. I stop thinking and start acting, every second thinking is a second lost.

"Shale, you got a five in training. Have you got anything to say about that?"

A grunt. I better try again.

"Do you think you should have got a five?"

A slightly different grunt. Evidently he doesn't agree. I always found it hard talking to the tough types, they give you no material to work with. But I know full well that this boy has material alright, I just have to coax it out of him and I've been doing that all my life.

"You had a bit of a hullabaloo at the reapings, didn't you? Who was that girl, your girlfriend?" I tease, but slowly edge down the smile and I hear Minty soften the laughter by the look on Shale's face.

"What's the matter, are you an Avox or something?" I ask, causing another ripple of laughter and another even stonier look. Phew – just once more and he'll crack. This is actually really hard.

"Listen – the whole point of an _interview _is that the interviewee is supposed to answer questions." I explain as if talking to a five year-old.

"And the whole point of an _interview _is that the interviewer is supposed to ASK questions!" He yells at me, causing a sudden silence in the crowd. OK – this is it, I've got to ease the rest out of him or he fails. Slowly does it. I carefully motion for him to continue with my finger and he gets what I have done with a startled look on his face, I've changed his interview tactic. Well, sometimes you just have to do these things. He takes in a sharp breath and starts speaking and doesn't shut up until it's his time to stop.

"That girl was my younger sister, Sadie, and I promised her I'd get back no matter what and I'm not one to break my promises, especially not to her. She means the world to me, no, more than the world. Her and her twin sister, Litile are my family and I always honour my family when I give them my word. I'm not just another rock solid career, I'm a human being and I have feelings, a personality even, and I'm not afraid to hide it. I'm not afraid to hide it because I'm going to win these games. For me, for my sisters, for my friends, I'm going to win these games because I just can't die!" Shale gasps for a breath frantically and I stop him – he's already run over slightly.

"That's all we have time for, sorry Shale, now can the next tribute come on with double speed?" I ask. But what I get isn't double speed or triple speed, it's quadruple speed. The girl from district two, Twira Hearthright, her name is, vaults over the row of chairs in front of her, causing the audience to gasp, and runs into the chair, not even slightly out of breath after such a daring leap. She just relaxes into the chair and smiles a contented, natural smile which really seems like it was always there, both on her face and in my heart. I smile back and then prop up some notes – not that I'll need them, I know them all – and then start talking.

"Let's not beat about the bush then Twira, shall we?" I ask, getting ready to continue.

"I don't make a habit of assaulting shrubbery." Says Twira in a mock serious tone and some laughter echoes out of the audience, real laughter, not just set off by my sister, Minty.

"Very well Twira, but it seems that you make a habit of assaulting tributes with your _ten_!" I say, Minty starting an _ooh_ off in the crowd at the mention of a ten. Twira keeps her smile up and even increases it a bit.

"Well, I don't like to boast or anything, but I have to say being on top feels so good, like a weight has lifted off my shoulders." explains Twira Hearthright, her heart warming smile still uplifting the audience.

"Uh-huh Twira, I totally get your meaning." I say, nodding as if I genuinely care, but I don't. This sweet, slightly calm and natural girl is just an act – inside she's a natural killer not a natural goddess, but the Capitol don't know that, or at least not yet.

"Yeah, well, I'd just like to say 'hi' to my mother and of course my brother, Scythe," Twira says, nodding towards the camera, totally relaxed. I know that this is just her way of getting me back on track to the juicy information. I really don't need to be told what to do but Twira seems to think that I do. She's wrong.

"Oh yes, your mother, hunger games winner and your brother, last hunger games winner, Scythe Hearthright. I heard he was quite a hit with the ladies." I say, raising an eyebrow at the camera.

"So did I." Smirked Twira, initiating some of her real personality to glimpse out, but she quickly covered up, "I mean, when he came back he had lipstick smeared all over his face and it wasn't just from his makeup artist!"

Some laughter breaks out of the audience again and Twira somehow slouches and sits up as straight as a needle at the same time, making her seem both relaxed and alert. She's evidently ready to kill. I voice my opinion.

"Killing isn't something you resent or enjoy, Caesar," Twira explains, "Killing is something you _do_."

Those cold words hit me right at the heart and suddenly I had a feeling that no matter how much she may seem like a fallen angel, full of smiles and laughs, she's really just like them, cold and malicious. She's heartless, and that's the thought that wafts through my mind as I dismiss Twira that convinces me I definitely won't be backing her.

**I hope you liked it! =D =D =D If you didn't... tough luck! Heh heh heh! Only joking - tell me, I'll be glad (or rather sad) to know!**

**Mottled Mushrooms... heh heh heh!**


	18. D3 Interviews

**As asked to reveal by lacrossefreak100 (by the way – I HATE lacrosse, I'm really bad at it), the two tributes I saved from the bloodbath are Braxlin Coal (D12) and Nate Morgue (D11) because their creators reviewed loads! Of course this meant putting other tributes in who weren't going to die in the bloodbath, but that's how the cookie crumbles (one of my **_**least **_**favourite phrases). So far I have six bloodbath deaths, one of them slightly special. It's the weekend so I'll update more now! Oh – and dare I repeat that you should really read and review Gnawing Hunger? Yes! Go do it now! You won't regret it!**

**D3**

The next tribute, Cole Dallan, steps up to the stage to a half hearted cheer from the audience. Even though he looks frightening with his folded muscles and scarred hands he's from district three and he only got a five in his training score so he isn't anything special. He sits rigidly in the chair, tense and alert, his eyes darting around the room as if he was already in the arena already.

"Cole, your training score, the five, what happened?" I ask, prompting him to open up and say how it was unjust, but all Cole does is shrug and murmur.

"Well, I guess they gave me what is best for my abilities."

I squeeze out a tense smile from my lips. He's not meant to do that – now he's in for it. I better change the subject quickly.

"Well, a little birdie told me that you're an electrician." I say. I know that it won't help him in the arena, but a foolish Capitol sponsor might.

"I thought there weren't any birds in the Capitol because the president shot them all." Says Cole bluntly. What is he thinking? That's on the border of rebellious there, because of that he might come to a sticky end in the arena at the hands of a Gamemaker.

"No, no, Cole, they had a disease, remember?" I asked him, my eyes portraying how much danger he was in. He seems to pick up on this.

"Oh. Yes, I remember now, the disease, of course. About being an electrician then, yes, I help my father out with electrics, fiddle around with a few wires," He holds up his hands, "That's how I got these scarred hands."

"The scarred hands? So would you say you're resistant to pain then?" I ask, Cole has opened his mouth like an 'O' ready to say 'no', no doubt, but I look up and down with my eyes, signalling him to change his answer. He pauses and then I do it again.

"I can feel pain, of course, but it doesn't hurt me as much now." Cole lies, evidently a bit uncomfortable with the whole breaking honesty thing.

"Right, Cole, well, your time is almost up, just one more question then. Why should you win?" It's a final resort but it could save his bacon, all he needs to do is come up with a really beautiful speech about his family and how they need him to survive and how he just needs to win.

"My mother, my father, my sister Flora, my best friend Gwen," He lists off on his fingers, "They all need me, they really all need me, and I'm going back because they just don't deserve to lose anybody in the world."

I nod solemnly and check the watch inbuilt in the human skin chair, "Time's up then Cole, can the next tribute, Quazza Willowwhisper come up, please?" I ask, glancing in the crowd to see an eighteen year-old girl who I must assume is Quazza come down. She gances for a minute second at Cole and then stumbles down and sits on the seat, almost paralysed. She tries to relax but is still stiff. I give her a warm smile. I have no idea what to do with her now.

"Quazza, what's the best thing about the Capitol since you got here?" I ask, knowing that her four in training is nothing to talk about and really she's someone who I spent hours trying to think of what to do for but could never decide.

"The Capitol? I like all the luxury. It's nothing like what we have in the districts. It's almost alien to me." Quazza says and looks at me quizzically as I roll my fingers, instructing her to continue. Finally she gets it and breathes in sullenly before continuing.

"I mean, I'm used to roughing it, if you get me, I sleep on the floor because my three older sisters have commandeered the beds." She says, and looks at me, showing she has nothing else to say.

"Your three elder sisters? How old are they, exactly?" I ask, knowing that the worried look on her face is a formality to be bypassed.

"Nineteen." Quazza stammers, "They're all triplets, so they're nineteen."

"What are their names?" I prompt.

"Selene, Karna and Cance." Quazza says, looking at me quizzically. She doesn't know where this is going, neither do I honestly.

"Are they all single?" I ask. It looks like Quazza's had enough.

"We're meant to be talking about me, not my sisters!" She hisses, "My strengths, my total lack of weaknesses, by amazing talent. You know – that sort of thing!"

"Yes Quazza," I say out louder to the audience but pretending it's to her, "I know you're pretending to be weak, but that doesn't mean you can just snap like that!"

A hushed silence falls over the audience and I can hear a couple of phones ringing, checking Quazza out. That might have just gained her a few sponsors at least. Her cheeks are flushed red and she seems to be panicking slightly. I smile knowingly at her and she calms down and looks around. I usher her up and back to her seat. Soon the district four careers will come up and I'll sort them out. I look at the boy, Rod Giffords, and decide that once this is over I really should try and quit again, it's playing havoc with my health, or what's left of it.

So as the boy clambers onto the stage I smile and sigh again. Six down, eighteen to go.

**Six down, eighteen to go indeed guys, then it's straight onto the games! Yay! Oh – I'm not doing all the interviews in the other tribute's eyes as well, guys. That would just torture me... I want to get into the games!**

**READ GNAWING HUNGER - PLEASE? You can access it via my profile page...**


	19. D4 Interviews

**When I re-read the last one I noticed it wasn't all that great – sorry! Ah well, onto D4. I'm a third through! Yay! XD**

**Twira, Thistle and Tour are currently joint first with two votes on my poll that you find on my profile page about your favourite tribute. Get voting if you haven't!**

**D4**

I smile at Roderick Giffords as he sits down onto the seat opposite me. He had the second highest training score so sponsors are pretty much guaranteed unless I mess this up terribly, which I won't do.

"Roderick, how are you?" I ask, even though he probably is terrified. He sinks back into the seat, relaxed.

"Oh, you know, just chillin', no big deal, right?" He asks me and I nod with a small twitch of a smile.

"No big deal," I agree, "So, Roderick, can I call you Roddy?" I ask, twitching my head, He's trying to seem cool and relaxed so the Capitol will think he can handle under pressure. That and the combination of his nine in training means he is pretty good.

"My friends call me Rod, Caesar. What do they call you?" He asks, trying to seem friendly.

"Unless you want to call me Caes there is no abbreviation of my name." I smile warmly and a slight twinge of laughter tickles the crowd from around my sister, Minty. She's an out of work actress and has save both my and the tribute's neck many times. She's a real asset to both me and the Capitol, even if they don't know she's there she's an angel in human form and a real life life-saver.

"Caes it is then." Rod forces a smile.

"What do you like about the Capitol, Rod?" I ask, feeling every breath from the audience, sensing their every thought.

"The Capitol? I just like it, I mean, who wouldn't? It's got anything and everything, it's a dream come true."

"Right, but now I've got to ask you about what everyone wants to hear – you're the second in the competition, people want to know how you did it, what you did!" I say and there is a cheer from the audience, courtesy of Minty. Maybe that was a bit over the top.

"The nine?" Rod asks, causing a ripple of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' to sway across the crowd. "I've been trying to do my best, I mean, it's no big deal. It's not like I got a ten or anything."

The camera swings to Twira who gives off another of her simpering sweet smiles and then drops the act as soon as the camera goes away. I turn back to Roderick.

"So you don't think you should have got the nine?" I ask, knowing the answer.

"Of course I should have got it, it's just _someone _only got one mark more than me and that _someone _got more than one mark's worth of attention. That's all I'm saying." Says Rod, then winks at the camera.

"Thank you Rod, that's all we have time for, I'm afraid. Please return to your seat." I tell him and prepare for the next career. I know after she's finished that I will have almost certainly met the next hunger games winner.

"Sure thing Caes." Roderick says and tramples up the stairs and sits back into his row of seats. I see him poke the girl next to him who seems in a bit of a daze and then she realizes what's happening and creeps onto the stage and sits down on the human skin chair.

"Lainey, how do you find the Capitol?" I ask her. She smiles at me and opens her mouth gaping around the room, the air of a bewildered child around her.

"It's all a bundle of surprises. Everything here is so... so..."

"Perfect?" I prompt.

"Yes, perfect. Everything here is so perfect." She smiles at the sentence she just strung together and looks at me happily.

"Are you ready for the games then, Lainey?" I ask.

"The games? Oh yes, you saw my eight in training didn't you? Joint third place mind you, but don't worry I've got more to give than that. You just see me in the arena, you'll be amazed by what I can do, really you will!" She grins at me happily.

"So what can you do Lainey?" I ask, deliberately repeating her name so she'll remember it.

"What can I do? Well, I can do a lot of stuff. I can run, I can fish and you should really see me with a knife because I can tell you – you'll be terrified." She grins as if she just was talking about what's good about her art project, not what's good about her to kill.

"Well, if you win the hunger games-" I start.

"_If_?" Asks Lainey, "Have a bit of faith in me, Caesar."

"Fine, _when _you win the hunger games what hobby will you take up, do you think?" I ask.

"I could always go for fishing but that sound boring, I want to go for something adventurous. Running may seem dull, so maybe I could merge some things together, take up some sort of triathlon, running, swimming and-"

"Climbing?" I finish.

"No, not climbing, I'd go for knife throwing. Yes, running, swimming and knife throwing." She finished hurriedly, slightly winded by something. I wonder what, then I get it. This girl can't climb, and if I don't hurry on then someone will pick up on it too, not all of the Capitol is totally incompetent.

"So, you volunteered for your friend, didn't you?" I ask, quickly changing the subject.

"My friend? Oh, her. Well, I didn't want her having all the fun. I mean, I've been training for this for a long time and then suddenly she gets reaped and steals all the glory, I couldn't go into the games next year saying I was friends with the former hunger games _bloodbath _victim." She jokes, slightly seriously and some laughter erupts from the crowd.

"Very well Lainey, you're time's up now – sorry." I say and grin through gritted teeth.

When she gets back to the seat i let out some breath I have been holding in and prepare for the next victim to step onto the chopping block. Now all the careers are over I'm going to have to really test my skills because I know deep down none of these others are going to live.

**Review. Please? Pretty Please? Pretty Please with cherries on top? Pretty Please with cherries and sprinkles on top? Pretty Please with che- OH JUST REVIEW, OK?**


	20. D5 Interviews

**I'm actually quite chuffed with this chapter, but tell me what _you_ think and check out some of my other stories, I have 23 overall so far throughout eight categories so you might recognise something other than the hunger games which you recognise such as harry potter, lara croft tomb raider, star trek and a lot more!**

**D5**

I stay seated as Arcturus Starre comes up. Usually I'd fret, but I'm perfectly cool, I've got all of this under control just like Rod had in the last interviews. I've decided that Arcturus is going to be some sort of survival expert or something along those lines. I've heard about his obsession with stars and have decided to turn it into sponsors.

Arcturus sits down into the chair and I smile a winning smile, trying to calm Arcturus down from his wringing hands and sweating brow. Don't they ever get it? I sigh but keep up my smile – it will be useful to Arcturus. Well, I better get started. As if reading my mind Arc puts out his hand for me to shake.

"Starre. Arc Starre." Arcturus says, managing to squeeze out a worried smile which is closer to a frown.

"Like Noah's ark?" I tease, Arcturus flushing a red colour.

"As you no doubt know, Noah and his ark are just fictional characters based on the hypothesis of-"

I wave my hand to signal for him to stop and he pauses. This twelve year-old has no idea, he's just sounding weird and any of the few religious people in Panem will be braying for his blood now. Just what I needed, I haven't had religious hate for almost forty years and now this little boy comes and stirs it up. I just hope that no-one noticed what he was saying. Ah well, it doesn't matter. Religion's a thing of the past in Panem. There's so much science it's pretty hard to hold a belief in here, especially if you're in a science research district like district five.

"Ok _Arc_, why do you think you can win the hunger games?" I ask him.

"Who said I thought I was going to win the hunger games?" asks Arc, causing a slight ripple of emotion through the crowd. He's just ruining it all for him.

"No-one," I murmur, "Ok, Arc, what do you like about the Capitol?" I ask, causing him to go a crimson colour.

"Couldn't we talk about something useful?" Arc asks, pushing anger up inside me. I had this all planned and now this little squirt ruins it for me. I can't wait to see him ripped to pieces by Capitol mutts on live television, broadcast across the nation. He has no idea what he is doing to me.

"What do you want to talk about then?" I snap, angry.

"Stars." States Arc bluntly, a glossy look over his eyes.

I want to strangle this boy, but he's only twelve and he deserves a fighting chance. I sigh and look at him wearily, defeated.

"Fine then Arc, stars it is. Do you know every star in the sky?" I ask simply.

"Almost every one, apart from the red dwarf south-east of-"

I motion for him to be quiet again, "So you can tell the position of every star in the sky?" he opens his mouth to speak but I cut in, "Except one."

"Yes, but I don't see-"

"Good! So you can navigate around the arena easily at night." I say, Arc's mouth hanging open.

"Time's up!" I yell before he can cut in, "Can the district five female come here please?"

A ginger-haired girl with fox like features skulks down, "The district five _female _is here." She hisses at me. This one's got spice.

"Fenora, sit down!" I say cheerily and Fenora melts into the chair, her posture upright and formal.

"So, are you ready for the arena?" I ask her.

"I might be." Whispers Fenora just loud enough for the cameras and the audience to pick it up. There's a hush to hear our conversation as I tune my voice down too. Now the audience are engrossed.

"But what about the opposition? Do any of them show any promise?" I ask, but Fenora just smiles knowingly.

"A couple Caesar, a couple."

"Which ones?" I ask, trying to get her to be more specific, but almost kick myself. This girl is going for mysterious, trying _not _to answer the questions, but now I've just given her a direct question. She glares at me scarily and tilts her head to the side, thinking.

"Hmm... It's hard to say."

I nod, that was handled perfectly. "What do you feel about being in the hunger games?" I ask her.

"What would _you _feel about being in the hunger games?" She asks, talking directly to the camera, then looking back at me and raising an eyebrow when no question comes. Eventually I cough and manage to choke out a question.

"So then, are you used to this kind of thing?" I ask her.

"Are any of us used to this? Have any of us done this before?" Fenora asks, knowing perfectly well that the answer buzzing around in the Capitol's heads will be a plain and simple 'no'.

"But have you got any skills that may be useful?" I ask.

"According to my six I'm an average tribute but believe me when I say that I am _not _average." Fenora smiles, a small twitch of the lip which sends shivers down my spine. She's really creeping me out now. I hurriedly glance at the in-built watch on my chair. Phew! It's almost over, just one more question.

"So you're special then?" I ask, letting out a short breath, soon it will be over, she's scaring me slightly.

"I'm more special than you could imagine Caesar, more special than you could imagine."

I feel a cold chill run down my spine, tickling my nerves, but then she's standing up and sitting back down and the next tribute is approaching the stage and their inevitable death and soon I forget Fenora Kensington and Arcturus Starre, even if it is for this night only.

**I just have to put this quote up and it'll be in one of the later chapters when I'm in the games if I remember. It's from Lara Croft, tomb raider or anniversary, I don't know. It's the one with Larson in it. Anyway, Lara swan dives from the top of a collapsing temple, dodging bullets, wild animals and ancient traps while doing so and finally plunges into a pool of water at the bottom, unscathed. Understandably she is out of breath and pants for a bit. Then she tries to come out of the water but then she finds... Larson! And he says something which is my favourite quote of all time. I could have got the scenario wrong but if you've played on this game or even if you haven't try to remember the quote or create a new one because if you guess it or come up with a substantial counterpart then I'll save one of your tributes from the bloodbath! =D So get creating and remembering because it is my favourite quote of all time! =D**


	21. Gamemaker Meeting & AN

**Almost halfway through the interviews, almost halfway through the torture of writing... I just want to get onto the games, but I promised I'd write a short chapter in style of the Gamemaker point of view. I sort of modelled this on 'The Greasy Hair Club', one of my spoof episodes for Robin Hood BBC, Primeval and Harry Potter. Basically Snape, Connor and Guy of Gisbourne meet up to discuss the dangers of hair cream (u-huh – hair gel too). Yes – it's weird, yes – it's just... weird. Yes – I am weird. OK – so don't blame me if you hate it – it's a bit, well, you'll see... (This is meant to be funny – notice 'meant')**

**SneverusSnapers = Sneverus (Head Gamemaker)**

**Let the foxx fly = Foxx (Deputy Head Gamemaker X 1)**

**LiquoriceWhip = Whip (Deputy Head Gamemaker X 2)**

**BowsandArrows435 = Bows (Gamemaker)**

**Momoloveslife5th-6****th**** = Moo (Gamemaker)**

**PS Weatherill = PS (Gamemaker)**

**Girl L0ves Doom = Doom (Gamemaker)**

**By the way – I've just called everyone girls here because I don't know your gender and doing that would be easier so if you're a guy, sorry in advance.**

_Gamemaker meeting – secret location – Ned's Chippie, District Four_

"Hello and welcome to the hundred and fifty third meeting of this hallowed establishment, I now call our meeting into practice." Drones Sneverus, the chief Gamemaker as she slicks back her hair. Already Bows and Moo are asleep, Whip is eating a stick of liquorice, PS is writing a gripping letter and Foxx is doodling on a scrap of paper. Sneverus whips the piece of paper from under Foxx's pencil as Doom stares helplessly at the chaotic meeting.

"Order! Order!" Yells Sneverus, banging the first thing she finds on the table which just happens to be Whip's stick of liquorice. There is a stunned silence as Whip turns a horrific shade of burgundy and snatches the stick of liquorice out of Sneverus' hands, steam literally pouring out of her ears. Doom just stares helplessly at the havoc in front of her as Foxx is sent to the naughty corner and starts making 'awkward turtle' signs with her hands to the beckoning silence.

"Fat penguin!" Yells Moo suddenly, jerking awake. Everyone stares at her in silence, bewildered. Moo shrugs, "Always breaks the ice." She explains and a hiss of laughter sniggers from Bows. Doom puts her head in her hands desperately and PS starts dictating her letter aloud.

"Dearest Love, today I ate an apple and its tender skin reminded me of your fragile state. Its heartless core reminded me of the hope that was lost and its snapped stalk reminded me of your love that-"

"SHUT UP!" Yells Doom, cracking. The silence breaks the room and everyone slowly sits back in their places.

"Thank you Doom," Sneverus murmurs, taking over commmand, "Now I know you're all tired and stressed but we have to tackle the big question – the arena."

A hushed murmur ripples across the chip shop and all eyes swivel towards Sneverus.

"Well don't look at me – you're meant to be giving ideas!"

Suddenly a bombardment of ideas are hurled across the room at top speed.

"Volcanic fields!"

"Deserts with mirages of water!"

"Acid valleys!"

"No – Acid Rain!"

"Everyone has to face their fears!"

"Monkey mutts!"

"Only one type of weapon!"

"Giant spiders!"

"Islands, we need lots of islands!"

"Flood the arena!"

"Kill off the people with the best training scores!"

"No food, they can all die of hunger!"

"No water, they can all die of thirst!"

"No free cuddly toys, they can all die of loneliness!"

A hushed silence floods the room and all eyes whip to the previous speaker, Foxx. Foxx looks down guiltily.

"I was getting a bit carried away, sorry." She murmurs and goes back to her seat which she just leaped up from.

"No, no, we can't kill the tributes, well, not all of them, we need to find a way of driving them together to deliver the real message." Hisses Sneverus angrily.

"What's that?" Asks Doom, quizzically. All eyes in the room are rolled at her.

"Honestly, we all know it's that we don't give away free cuddly toys." Huffs Foxx sarcastically. When she sees all the eyes are glaring at her she holds her hands up in defence.

"Ok, ok, sorry, I didn't mean it." She says.

"We've got to make them suffer for the rebellion." Explains Bows and Moo simultaneously, then look at each other in surprise.

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it?" asks Doom, startled.

"Shut up!" snaps PS, "I'm trying to think."

"Not another of your letters?" huffs Whip, clearly put out.

"No, it's just that I had an idea."

"WOW! AN IDEA? YOU?" Yells Bows and Moo at the same time. They stare at each other and after a moment give each other a high five.

"I've forgotten it now." Huffs PS angrily.

Sneverus shakes her head and tips her head in her hands.

"Tell you what, I'll come up with my own idea about the arena with one person's help. Who wants to be that person?"

All hands shoot up in the air like in a classroom and Sneverus surveys the room.

"I've got it! My crony in arms will be..."

Silence ricochets off the walls.

"Ned, the owner of the chippie!" Calls Sneverus and exits the room, arm in arm with Ned, ready for some evil scheming.

Foxx huffs, "She does that _every _year." She moans and then the members disband after a nice bag of chips and a nice raspberry slushy, which after drinking they get brain freeze from, lowering their IQ significantly.

**OK – if you didn't like this **_**at all**_** stick to my serious tuff, if not check out my comedy because I have a lot more from where this came from.**

**At the end of every chapter I'm going to come up with a scenario and I want you to come up with a suitable quote like I had in the last chapter. If you know the last one I will save your tribute from the bloodbath or lengthen its life, but every normal one will give you a good turn back in the arena, believe me, it will come back to help your tribute. Try to make it as hilarious as possible. =D I'll announce the winner every few chapters. =D**

**CRAZY SCENARIO: You are walking along a cliff with your dog when you see a figure through the mist. They are shaking, terrified and have a mad look about their eyes. The only thing that pops into your head is mad and crazy, it isn't 'don't jump' or 'you don't deserve to die', it is ...**

''

**I will post the winner over the next few chapters after I get a fewentries. The prize is good karma. Just remember – make it funny and PLEASE enter, even entering gets you good feelings – and even if the winner is up you can still enter, just put 'Cliff scene –' and then your entry. Good luck and goodbye for now! =D**


	22. D6 Interviews

**Dum Dee Dum! I'm Tweedle Dee in our school play – heh heh heh! Considering I had the most lines out of everyone last year it's a steep demotion but I don't mind – I'm happy! I have decided on a winner for last chapter's quote, but there will be a new one at the end of this chapter and do not fear; it is still open so you can still enter if the next chapter isn't up! OK – not everyone can have a good interview, just warning you! =D**

**D6**

I slide my chair back as Brink leaps up to the stage. His stylist seems to have covered him in some disgusting smelling Capitol perfume – it makes me feel sick and my head spin, but I can't let that deter me – I have to help him, even if his stylist won't. He settles down in the seat and I feel all the girls repulse away from him, he's definitely one dead cause, and it doesn't even look like his stylist tried. I shake my head and grit my teeth into a clenched smile at Brink.

"Hello Brink." I say, it's safe to go easy at the beginning.

"Hiya Caes!" Brink not so tactfully yells. The audience flinches.

"My name is Caesar, Brink, Caesar." I correct him.

"The thickie from district four called you Caes." points out Brink boisterously.

"First of all, he is not a 'thickie' as you say, and second of all I'd prefer it if you called me Caesar." I sneer at him. He doesn't seem fazed though, which annoys me even more.

"Whatever Caes." Rink says and I clutch my head in agony. This is why I never had children, they are so annoying! I clamp my eyes shut tight and trample over all thoughts of dissecting him slowly with a scalpel. I have to put up with this.

"So, Brink, what do you like about the Capitol?" I ask. Good, that's a safe bet. He can't ruin this. But somehow he does.

"All the Capitol chicks who are just throwing themselves down at me. There was this one girl-" Brink says. I quickly interrupt.

"Alright, but what about the opposition?" I ask.

"Hmm... the career girls are hot but the girl from one's knee is just disgusting." babbles Brink, oblivious of the cameras swinging to every face he insults.

"The girls will be evidently worshipping in the arena, but if you win some you lose some, you get my meaning?" Asks Brink to me. I try desperately to stop myself retching at both the vile stench of his perfume and the horror in his words.

"Are you ok Caes?" Asks Brink.

"FOR THE LAST TIME MY NAME IS CAESAR!" I yell and am greeted by the cold atmosphere of the audience. There is a deadly pause and then Minty starts cheering and the others join in until the audience is egging me on. I smile, that boy was dead meat anyway, I just gave someone better a sponsor, that's all. But I know deep down that President Snow will be having a serious word with me tonight concerning the safety of Minty. I shiver then look back at Brink.

"You may go now." I tell him simply.

"But the time isn't over!" complains Brink.

"Then that means we can all get back home in time for a nice hot bath." I jeer and he steps down from the stage, stunned that I threw him off. Before the crowd do something maniacal I call the next tribute down, Reena Woodson. She steps up to the stage and sits down into the seat, her blonde hair piled above her head, roman styled.

"Hello Reena," She smiles sweetly at me, "How is your stay at the Capitol?" I ask her.

"Oh, it's wonderful." She giggles excitedly, "Everything's so new, so bold, so amazing! I just want to do everything, try everything. But I have to train, that's important." Reena adds a tone of seriousness to her voice. "It's important because I have to win."

"Why?" I prompt, wanting her to expand on her answer.

"My friends, my family, everything I love and need, do you honestly think they wouldn't miss me and if you think I won't kill to get back you're very much mistaken." Reena says, her voice starting off fun and bubbly, then sinking down to a menacing hiss. The audience is deathly silent.

"Your friends and family, what's so important about them then?" I ask.

"My three friends, Sofia, Alexia and Nadia, my two twin thirteen year-old brothers, Oscar and Toscar and then there's my parents. All of them will miss me alone than a whole nation missing all the other tributes and don't say it isn't true because it is. They love me and I love them. And my love is strong enough to bring me through this because whether the other tributes like it or not I will survive."

"What do you think about the other tributes?" I ask her.

Reena points at each tribute in turn and the camera moves with her finger showing which tribute she's pointing at, "A joke, dead meat, hopeless, all mouth and looks, bloodbath fodder, infatuated, easy prey, pretending to be someone bigger then she is, pitiful, useless, crazy,"

She continues, skipping herself, "Wimp, no trouble, dead within a second, not important, even less important, baby, dead man walking, wuss, first out, lowest score."

She freezes and catches a breath and slowly points to herself, "Champion."

"So you're ready for the arena?" I ask her, breaking the stunned air.

She smiles and tilts her head in an even more freaky way than Fenora did, "Bring it on."

She steps up and exits back into her seat, leaving all of the other tributes gaping at her. She's either going to die very, very slowly at the end or die very, very quickly at the beginning. I just hope for her sake it's the latter.

**WARNING - Long A/N coming up!**

**For details on the Crazy Scenario check out the last chapter. If you win once you can still win again, there is no favouritism though. Enter as many as you want as long as they're still open. Try to make it short and sweet like last time's winner. Put your answer under 'Polar Bear Attack-'**

**CRAZY SCENARIO: You are freezing cold in a snowy terrain and then suddenly you see a giant polar bear charge at you, teeth snapping. Suddenly a crack rips through the wind and the polar bear collapses on the floor dead. You look at the person who fired the gun and don't say 'you saved my life!' or 'you're a hero', you say...**

**The winner of last chapter's crazy scenario was 'ecto90210 and lozzie123'**

**CRAZY SCENARIO: You are walking along a cliff with your dog when you see a figure through the mist. They are shaking, terrified and have a mad look about their eyes. The only thing that pops into your head is mad and crazy, it isn't 'don't jump' or 'you don't deserve to die', it is ...**

_**They are taking forever and not jumping so (just to speed things up a bit) I throw my dog at the person. :|**_

**It doesn't make complete sense when you string it together but you get the jist. I don't know why but I found this absolutely hilarious. Mind you, my dog was annoying me and I was very tempted ...**

**Serious Warning: Don't go shooting polar bears or lobbing dogs over cliffs. I won't bail you out of jail – it's not my responsibility!**


	23. D7 Interviews

**D7**

I smile hastily at Axel as he approaches me, knowing full well that his life could be in my hands and the only place I'm going to see twenty-three of these names is on a gravestone. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and then stare back at Axel, grinning heroically. I've got to stay cheery to help him out. I motion for him to sit down and he does so reluctantly and forces his way onto the human skin chair. I can feel his repulsion towards it but he's covered it up and although he may be a supporter of the hunger games I don't think he's grasped the full gravity of his situation. He places himself on the chair and smiles at me.

"Can I first say what an honour it was to be reaped?" Axel tries to cover up his ecstatic grin from his face as he turns back from the cameras he had just been addressing.

"Of course Axel, now what do you think about the games, are you ready?" I ask him and I feel a slight shuffle as Axel shifts his position on the chair. He seems nervous and frightened as well as excited and over-controlling, a deadly combination.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be Caesar, I just can't wait for it to start."

"Neither can I."I lie; I can't wait for it to end of course, but that means twenty-three linen wrapped bodies and yet another year of promised retirement and jabs to keep me up and running yet again. Little do people know but I'm one of the oldest Capitol men and although I call Minty my sister she's actually my sister's grand-daughter. If people knew the truth they'd be mortified, how the Capitol have kept me propped up and running just so I can keep on presenting these dratted games.

"Of course, the whole procedure is a marvel." Adds Axel, snapping me back to my senses.

"Of course." I nod, then turn back to Axel from the audience. "Now – what do you think about the opposition?"

"They're a tough lot this year Caesar, I'll give you that, but nothing I can't handle."

"So you think you can win?" I ask, trying to hide the sarcasm creeping into my voice.

"I can definitely try." Axel says, then turns to the audience and repeats it louder, "I CAN DEFINITELY TRY!"

A cheer comes from my grand-daughter, Minty, and soon there are a few more. Axel smiles, then turns back to me.

"I got a six in training, same as Tour Solier, Fenora Kensington and Mitchel Rye. But I can guarantee you that I'll live longer than them, all of them."

I look back at Axel and fake a quizzical look on my brow; really, I should have followed an acting career like my sister, Minty, her daughter also called Minty, her daughter, Minty and her daughter after her, called Minty as well. All of them have been as a sister to me. Identical in many ways, always helping me out with my job as the chemicals the Capitol surgeons pump into me keep me alive, though it is more of an existence than living. At least in the districts if they want to commit suicide you can always volunteer, but here in the Capitol if you want to escape you can't.

"Ok Axel, your time's up. Now onto our next tribute, the dear Lindsey Gray." I call and Lindsey bounds up to the stage, her chocolate brown eyes flashing in the light. She settles uncomfortably in the chair and stares at me. I have no idea what approach she'll be going for, though I assume it will have something to do with pity because of what happened to her parents.

"Hello Lindsey," I say softly.

"Hello Caesar," she replies.

"How are you feeling about entering the games?" I ask.

"I feel really scared," admits Lindsey honestly, "It's such a big thing, I don't feel like I'll ever be ready."

I examine her. Her chocolate brown eyes have become large and round and her face looks almost pitiful. She's going for the honest approach. I rarely see it, and even less is it pulled off properly, but Lindsey seems to be doing fine.

"You got a five in training – what do you think about that?" Hopefully she should feel upset about that. The key is to ask things where the honest answer both is true and looks good.

"The Gamemakers know best, I suppose. But still I feel that I should have got a higher mark. Maybe it was just the private training session, maybe it just went badly." Good, that's useful. The thing about honesty is the Capitol feel complied to feel whatever they're saying. I remember one time a few years back they replaced me with another Capitol man. He was so useless I was forced back in, saying that all was fine. Little people know it but I've been here since the beginning – the 1st Hunger Games. Of course, that means this is my 153rd lot of tributes I will see die and believe me when I say I'm not comfortable at all with it. I have never grown accustomed to it. I glance at Lindsey and settle on her parents as a good question to bet. But I'll do that last, I'll place one more question before that.

"What do you like most about the Capitol?" I ask, and Lainey pauses, then sighs, "The food, oh, the food."

The audience chuckles knowingly. "Anything special?" I ask her.

"No – nothing special, just I think that it's all wonderful. It's nothing like what we have back home at the districts, it's so rich and wonderful. Back home everything's so bland and basic. Your food, your everything is so much better than ours." I signal for her to stop, I'd love her to continue

"How do your family feel about all of this, you being entered in the hunger games, I mean?" I ask, I just hope she isn't too honest, but it's just her brother so it's not too bad.

"He's upset, really upset, so I have to go back to him." Lindsey states.

"He? Who's that? Your boyfriend? Your father?" I ask, but Lindsey just lets out a weak smile.

"I don't have either a boyfriend or a father." She says and glances at her hands as she clenches them, "My parents were murdered for their money which was nothing. The peacekeepers never caught the thieves."

A hushed silence ripples across the audience and there are a few tears touching the Capitol's plastic cheeks. I find I'm touched by Lainey's story too. I look up at her and smile, Minty does too and soon the hole audience is grinning at Lainey sympathetically. They've never been through that, I'll just have to rely on their empathy. But judging by the fact that they invented the hunger games it's safe to say that would be somewhere near nil.

"Thank you Lainey, your time is up. You may return to your seat." I say and Lainey lets out a gush of air from her mouth she's been holding and returns back to her seat. I smile. Fourteen down, ten to go.

**WARNING: Crazily long A/N**

**Fourteen down, ten to go. I just hope they're not getting too repetitive, I'm trying to spice them up but there's only so much you can do so I'm interjecting the odd A/N or Gamemaker meeting or something to keep both you and me entertained. Crazy Caption Contest winner has been decided!**

**OK – BFG stands for Big Friendly Giant to all those people who don't know. It's a children's book by Roald Dahl and the BFG blows dreams into your ear by a trumpet. Gold blobs are wonderful dreams, red are nightmares and some other colour is normal ones. Yup – random, I know, but it suddenly popped into my head. To enter the one below write 'BFG -' then your answer, remember, make them short, sweet and funny. You'll get my taste by my previous winners, oh, and please try to make it make sense.**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are sleeping in a bed next to a window when suddenly a noise jerks you awake. The BFG has broken through your window and has started prodding you with a trumpet. You look at him and then suddenly a red glowing thing floats towards you, angrily twitching. He grabs it in a net and then inserts a gold blob into his trumpet and starts blowing. You look up at him and do something totally random, you...**

**OK – now below is the winner of last Chapter's caption contest, 'RiversofVenice'. By the way – the Lara Croft quote ages ago was 'I would join you but I forgot my swimming trunks.' I knew none of you would have got that, anyway, last time's winning caption was-**

**CRAZY SCENARIO: You are freezing cold in a snowy terrain and then suddenly you see a giant polar bear charge at you, teeth snapping. Suddenly a crack rips through the wind and the polar bear collapses on the floor dead. You look at the person who fired the gun and don't say 'you saved my life!' or 'you're a hero', you say...**

**"You're against Green Peace, aren't you?" *sulks***

**Heh heh heh! Hopefully you'll have got my style so far – remember, even if you enter good things start happening to your tribute, and if you win then even better things will happen, like they find water, get a weapon, notice another tribute is following them, that sort of thing... =D**

**This A/N is almost longer than the interviews themselves... whoops!**


	24. D8 Interviews

**D8**

I sink back into my chair. I'm really tired. As soon as a yawn escapes my lips I regret it as the tube the Capitol doctors have attached to my back for the duration of the interview pumps out a flood of chemicals and I reel slightly. The audience isn't looking at me though, they're looking at the next tribute coming up, Robert Tars, a seventeen year-old boy who cried when he got reaped. He won't last ten seconds in the arena; I really don't know why I bother.

"Hello Caesar." He says to me and I notice that I've been staring blankly into the distance. Really, this is just a nightmare. I need to snap out of it. I smile back at Robert.

"Hello Robert." I reply politely, smiling innocently at him. It's almost like I'm a tribute being interviewed the way I worry about this, but technically I am because the fate of messing up is the same for both me and Robert, death.

"How do you feel about being in the games?" I ask him.

"Ok..." Murmurs Robert and I wait for him to continue but he doesn't. I pick up on another question.

"Have you got anyone special at home?" I ask him.

"My family." Robert mutters.

"I mean a girlfriend." I prompt.

"What?" He asks, looking back up at me, he must have drifted off into his own world for a bit, "Oh, no. No-one."

"Right. Are you ready for the games then?" I ask him.

"I don't know." Replies Robert and looks down at his hands and starts mumbling to himself. What sort of idiot is he?

"Are you excited, happy, sad, ecstatic."

"I don't think anyone's ecstatic here Caesar, we're going to die." Robert says and a hush tone mutters across the audience that even Minty can't control.

"One of you is going to live." I correct.

"And twenty-three of us are going to die." snaps back Robert.

"Well you better hope you're the one then, won't you?" I hiss at him.

"I better, yes." Replies Robert, a glazed over look in his eyes, the type I see on those in the hospitals when they know they're going to die, condemned men.

"There's still a hope, Robert." I comfort.

"I just pray you're right Caesar." Robert murmurs.

"Right! Interview over!" I call, that's one totally and utterly dead tribute there.

Next comes Tess Carter, a geeky girl. She brushes the red dress she has been fitted into and sits down in the chair.

"Hello Tess!" I bellow proudly. Tess flinches at the noise and smiles as she sits down.

"So Tess, you volunteered for your friend Bayley-"

"Hayley," Corrects Tess, "Her name is Hayley Kamin."

I nod and continue, "Why did you volunteer for her?" I ask.

"She's my friend. I promised to myself that I would volunteer instead of her if she got reaped this year and she did."

"You kept your promise?" I ask, bewildered.

"I had a better chance of surviving than her, even if it is pretty slim." Explains Tess simply.

"Well I think Hayley is a very lucky girl to have a friend like you." I say, amazed at this girl's courage.

"You do?" She asks, surprised.

"I do! Volunteering for the hunger games to help a friend, lets give her a round of applause ladies and gentleman!" _and mutations_ I add in my mind as the audience cheers for Tess as she goes a beetroot red.

"Well, I..." She stutters, clearly amazed.

"You're clearly one very brave girl Tess, and an honest one. Just watch out for any slippery alliances." I tell her. Tess looks at me, bewildered.

"I don't want ally with anyone." Murmurs Tess.

"Don't you?" I ask, "Well I suggest you seriously contemplate it, it could help you out in there." I tell her and she starts muttering again.

"Thank you so much Caesar, thank you everyone." She murmurs.

"Our pleasure Tess, now, are you clever?" I ask her.

"Yes." Says Tess without hesitation.

"You're a modest young girl, aren't you?" I joke, causing some laughter from the citizens of the Capitol.

"Modesty has nothing to do with it, I am clever." States Tess simply.

"Don't worry about your four in training then, that's all about physical skill, you'd have got a twelve if it was about mental then."

Tess grins, getting my jist. "I'll outsmart them all."

I nod, "Happy to help you Tess, I'm happy to help you."

A look of glee forms on her face and she leaps off the chair, off to go back to her place, but my momentaral pleasure is replaced by fear as yet another tribute and yet another fate approaches me.

**I'm leaving the last one's Crazy Scenario open for another chapter so more entries can happen! =D **

**!PRESS THE REVIEW BUTTON BELOW!**

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	25. D9 Interviews

**D9**

Dallas Starconn scampers up to the stage, his face alert and cheery. He sinks into the chair and grins at me, I automatically grin back. I've been doing this for way too long.

"Hello, and can I say what a pleasure it is to be here!" calls Dallas. I roll my eyes at the camera. I've got to seem joking, so if I can seem to get on with this boy maybe they can.

"Can't you come up with a more original comment?" I ask and Dallas lets off a cheeky grin.

"Hail Caesar!" He calls, complete with salute and stamping of feet and is greeted by a genuine chuckle from both me and the crowd. I never thought anyone would relate me to the roman near emperor, Julius Caesar.

"So, do you think you'll be able to conquer the arena then?" I say, playing on the roman theme, but Dallas gets one better on me.

"When I'll get out of there unscathed the first thing I'll say is veni, vedi, vici." He calls to me. I smile, speaking Latin is the latest craze in the Capitol for some odd reason, it's because they seem to like dead languages for some odd reason, perhaps it's because they have an obsession with dead things.

"I came, I saw, I conquered." I translate for the Capitol's benefit, "Julius Caesar said that."

"Don't let's go onto history." Dallas says, making a pretend yawn.

"But you'll soon make it." I say, winking at him.

"Not as the quickest tribute to die, I hope." Grins Dallas cheekily and the audience laughs along merrily.

"We make a good double act." I tell him, speaking as I observe.

"Well you can hire me as soon as I get out of the arena, but I warn you – my pay is steep." Dallas finishes with a wink, replying instantly.

"Ah yes, the arena," I say, edging a serious tone into my voice, "So how will you get out of there?"

"Same as good old Caesar, man. I'll go, I'll see and I'll conquer. First of all I'll go, be transported up by those pods and then I'll see, survey the surrounding area, choose a good place to camp and stay, that kind of thing. Then finally I'll conquer." He freezes, the audience captivated, "you can leave that bit to your imagination." He finishes off and winks at the camera.

"That is definitely something to think about there Dallas, before you go though, what about that boy you volunteered for?" I ask.

"That was George, who I ironically call Fred after that ancient book, what's it's name?" He asks.

"Harry Potter," I add.

"Yes, Harry Potter. Well, Fred is my best friend along with his twin sister Gina so I thought he deserved to have a bit of a chance in life, not everyone is a roman!"

"Thank you Dallas, I'm afraid our time is up now, no matter how much I enjoy your company. Can the district eight girl please come up now?" I ask, only to meet a pitiful sight. A small, petite, twelve year-old looks at me carefully and edges towards the stage before sitting down, the massive chair huge compared to her petite and frail looking body.

"Hello Caesar," she says sweetly.

"Aren't you going to salute me too?" I ask, causing her to blush and look at her hands.

"Only joking darling, so, Lusa, is it?" I ask.

She nods innocently and glances, scared around the room as she brushes her long black hair out of her eyes.

"So are you ready for the games?" I ask, my voice sounding rough and cold compared to her sweet voice which is so lovely it's almost deadly like a siren's call. (**talking about sirens – did any of you see that doctor who episode? No? Ah well...**)

"I guess I would be more ready if I was older but I think I stand a chance." Murmurs the girl, causing a sweet _aah_ from the audience.

"I mean, I love everything here, I don't want to go, especially that fountain outside with the glass moulded into the shape of a raven, it's like my Raven pin." Smiles Lusa as she holds up her raven pin, her district token for all to see.

"Whoa! You've over taken me – so much for asking what you like most about the Capitol. Raven fountain, check. Now, where are we? Ah yes, Lusa, what's your tactic in the arena and the bloodbath?" I ask simply.

"My tactic in both is to survive Caesar, my tactic in both is to survive." She repeats and I look at her, puzzled. This cute little girl has spirit.

"What about family?" I ask her, curious.

"I have a father, Drew, but he left when I was a baby, an elder sister, Annora and a mother, Rosalyn. Annora isn't right in the head so my mother and I look after her." She says and I feel the sympathy from the crowd pour all over her.

"Will you kill?" I ask her and she stares at the ground.

"To live I will do anything, and I know I have to kill even though I know it is wrong."

I look at her again. "You know that it is wrong?" I ask.

"I KNOW that it is wrong." She repeats, parrot fashioned, emphasising on the 'know'.

"Thank you Lusa, your time is UP!" I call and then look into the camera.

"Three more districts, six more tributes. Is one a victor? Well you'll just have to wait and see!"

**Yes, you will! Now, I have a NEW caption competition, sorry the other one was rubbish, this is a lot better – hopefully. Anyway, here is the winner – Arcticmist!**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are sleeping in a bed next to a window when suddenly a noise jerks you awake. The BFG has broken through your window and has started prodding you with a trumpet. You look at him and then suddenly a red glowing thing floats towards you, angrily twitching. He grabs it in a net and then inserts a gold blob into his trumpet and starts blowing. You look up at him and do something totally random, you...**

**Say "Should I call the cops on you or not?"**

**Go Arcticmist – now for the next, hopefully better crazy scenario. I think I'll only accept them as a winner if they're attached to a review for the chapter unless they're absolute genius, so if I'm stuck deciding I'll use the review size as a decider.**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are in a history class with your teacher learning about some terrible disaster, like usual (or not in my case) you aren't paying attention until the teacher suddenly whips into your face and glares at you, asking you what you think. You say...**

**OK – have fun! =D**


	26. D10 Interviews

**D10**

An almost bald short boy who must be twelve, but according to his file is fourteen, leaps up to the stage and slides across on his shoes, slipping across the freshly polished floor and sinks into the chair, raising his feet to the armrests so he looks both ridiculous and relaxed.

"Yo Caes dude, wassup man?" Mitchel Rye calls, then spits out some gum from his mouth. It looks like he's been spending some time with his escort, and I can really pick that up, so can everyone else no doubt, and angry looks are fired across to her as she sticks the same putrid smelling gum onto the back of the person in front of hers neck. She just shrugs as she sees the cameras zoom in on her, then gives Mitchel the thumbs up. He turns to me.

"You look well Caes, you lost weight? You're definitely looking good for your age, a hundred and seventy something, isn't it?" He asks, seeming totally relaxed but his tone somehow menacing.

"Sit down properly Mitchel! You're making a fool of yourself!" I hiss at him, just loud enough for the microphone in my jacket to pick up along with Mitchel. He straightens up and tosses the rank gum behind him, it landing in the hair of the district nine escort, she starts babbling something about the community supporting everyone but is blocked out by me starting speaking.

"Hello Mitchel, have you got anything to say?" I ask, then Mitchel pales.

"Um... well... as a matter of fact... err... yes..."

"No? Good!" I snap and then shuffle through my notes. I open my mouth to ask another question but Mitchel butts in.

"I do have something to say Caesar, thanks for reminding me!" He says and drags his feet back to the armrest as he sticks another stick of gum in his mouth.

"My brother, Nico Rye, was of age, he stood a chance, well, more of a chance than me. But guess what?" He says and even I pause, I freeze momentarily, "He didn't volunteer! He didn't save my skin, because Nico could have won, Nico could have saved my bacon, but he didn't. Now what kind of brother do you call that?" He snaps as the audience stays still, petrified.

"WHAT KIND OF BROTHER DO YOU CALL THAT!" He roars at the camera. I hurriedly check my timer. Almost time up, oh well, I can't let him go on, he might ruin everything. But the time isn't up, I can't finish.

"What kind of brother, Mitchel?" I ask, prompting him to keep it up, now he's high he's got to stay there. I can't let him drop down and his performance ending on an overall low. _Performance_, yet more proof that this is just another charade in the Capitol's evil scheme. It's not an interview; it's a play, a test of acting skill. I smile at Mitchel, no matter how much it pains me to do so, I know it would hurt a lot more if I didn't.

"What kind of brother?" Mitchel says softly, menace lacing his voice, "He's a brother that no=one wants, a bully, a tyrant, a monster, an ignorant, oblivious, stupid, thick, dictating HYPOCRITE!" He screams. I glance at my watch. Phew, it's over.

"Thank you Mitchel, that was very informative," I lie through gritted teeth, "Now onto our female contestant, Willow Grams!" I call and a soft, blonde haired girl with straight hair with brown streaks, which is starting to spring back into curls, swaggers up to the stage, overtaking Mitchel. She prances up to the stage, light and bubbly, then plants a kiss on my plastic cheek which has been constantly plumped and pulled over. President Snow and I are the only ones alive from the old days when the games started so only we know what he has done to me and probably to himself, only we know what he ended up doing to the Mockingjay, whose name I have forced myself to forget but still it comes back to haunt me sometimes. _Katniss Everdeen._

I smile at Willow softly as she beams at me and plonks herself down on the seat, staring, gazing at the distance.

"Hello Willow Grams how are you?" I ask her, nice and simple does it.

"I'm fine thank you Caesar." Answers Willow. I hum slightly to myself. She should have expanded on that but it was no big mistake, she is evidently an airhead and although she has the looks and the charm she has neither the skill nor the wit to survive for long.

"So Willow, what do you think of your fellow contestants, your tribute from the same district?" I ask simply.

"Oh, they're all marvellous, and the outfits are amazing!" She chirps happily, "Mitchel? He's a really nice guy, if only I knew him before..." Her voice drops off.

"Of course, you must be quite sensitive about that Willow." I console, a permanent smile fixed on my face, every straining muscle taken not to turn it into a frown.

"Oh the reapings? No, no, it's fine, more than fine in fact. It's amazing, I would have never volunteered of course, I'm not the kind of girl, I would have thought my friend Sassy would be better, but that's just how things turn out!" She jokes merrily, her voice both soft and golden, like light cream, whipped and fresh.

"Your friends?" I say, that should be enough to cover for a while.

"There's Sassy, Coco, May and finally Blossom, my best friend."

"Can you tell us a bit about them?" I say, being careful to say 'us' so the audience feel included. It's not just the tribute's feelings I have to tamper with here; I've got to deal with the Capitol's too.

"Of course, Sassy's a lean, mean killing machine. No offense Sass!" She calls to the camera, "She's some sort of goddess to the guys but she's strictly off limits. May however, has totally broken the limits and boundaries and anything else you want to come up with. Coco's sweet, her and her boyfriend have been going out for years, she's the steady one, and then there's Blo, she's just wild. Never have a party without her because it will totally fail. She has to be number one on your invite list!" She giggles happily.

"Well that's me!" She calls to both me and Panem.

"Well that's you indeed." I smile warmly and then glance at the cameras, "Twenty tributes have finished their interviews, only four more folks!"

**YAY! Two more chapters and it's bloodbath haven! Whoop whoop! Come on Snev, you can do this! =D I probably won't be able to update tomorrow because of loads of homework I've been bombarded with, so that's why I've done two today! So – Crazy Scenario. I'll update it anyway, the old one's still open, but I'm opening a new one as well! =D Lucky you!**

**CRAZY CAPTION : You are going camping with your friends and you're crowding around the campfire, roasting marshmallows and making up ghosts, ghouls and creatures. Your friend just perfects one about a demon made out of coals from a fire and it's your turn to think up of a creature, but all you can come up with is...**

**REMEMBER – make it funny! =D**


	27. D11 Interviews & AN

**D11**

I stare at the boy from district eleven, Nate Morgue, as he steps up to the stage and positions himself carefully in his seat, measuring out every movement. He stares at me carefully, a frown knitted into his brow that he seems to be unable to remove, like a permanent scar.

"Hello Nate!" I call cheerily, though more desperately in my eyes.

"Hi." He grunts simply and looks at the audience as if pondering something.

"So who have you left behind at your home district?" I ask carefully, making sure it applies for friends as well.

"My mother, Stella, loves and cares for us, and tries to make us understand that we have to work hard and such to sustain our studies, she's pregnant at the moment. Then there's my father Oswald, who supports us, but he's deaf so I guess he'll have to have this translated to him through my eldest sister, Amanda, who is always caring and trying to help. Vee, my ten year-old sister will no doubt be cheering me on in secret, she cares really, even if she doesn't show it, we are siblings after all. Then there's Klaus and Hector. Klaus is seven and always messes around, while Hector is four so he won't understand what's going on. I'm the eldest, though my mother keeps the family up." He pauses, smiling, as if he was there now, but then snaps out of it and continues talking, "Then there's my friend, Duncan and finally there's Isabella..."

He pauses at this name and I sense the tension in that name. I know immediately there's something going on between them, but I can't show I've picked that up, I've got to get to it from a different angle.

"What about girls? Do you have anyone special back home?" I ask him and I see him flush.

"Well, I don't know, Bella and I are, well, I have no idea really what she thinks of me." He explains carefully, stammering slightly.

"Well you go back and ask her then." I grin encouragingly, trying to make him feel better, "What do you think about the Capitol then Nath?" I ask.

"My name's Nate." Nate corrects politely.

"Sorry, Nate, what do you think about the Capitol?"

"It's totally unlike anything we have at home Caesar, everything's so good whereas at home everything is rotten. I just guess this is the way it is."

I nod sympathetically at him and open my mouth again.

"One last question then Nate – how do you think you're going to do in the games?"

Nate looks up straight into my eyes, locking them and I know he's telling the truth, his face deadly serious. "I don't know how, or when but I know I am going to follow the game's only rule – to kill or be killed."

"Thank you Nate!" I call, causing a cheer from the audience, "Now onto our girl here, Thistle Clay!"

Thistle brushes pat Nate as he leaves and takes his place in the chair, facing me. She bends down and kisses me on the cheeks then returns to the seat, a sweet smile playing across her clay coloured lips.

"Hello Thistle." I say to her and she returns the smile I send her.

"Why hello Caesar," she says, licking her lips to prevent them from chapping, "I'm just glad I could make it." She smiles and glances at me.

"As are we." I reassure, trying to vanquish a strange hollow look in her grey eyes with empty flickers of grey in them like broken promises.

"Now Thistle, can you tell us a bit about your family then, and your friends?" I ask, starting simply.

"My younger brother, Lochie, my friend, Lessie and I all live together. My brother and I moved away from my father's house because of his addiction to Morphling and ended up surviving together along with Lessie." She explains.

"What about your mother?" I ask, knowing full well that she is dead.

"She passed away, that's what got our father hooked on Morphling. I would help him if I could but my first instinct was to protect Lochie, which is what I did." Explains Thistle, looking like she has accepted her mother's death.

"That's very courageous of you." I point out, causing a menacing smile from Thistle.

"Courage isn't my only motivation Caesar, fascination has a part to play too." She says, her words crawling under everyone's skin.

"Oh, good, so what do you think about your six then?" I ask, trying to seem unfazed by her creepy remark.

"The six? It could have been better, it should have been better." Says Thistle and she stares at me oddly, sending shivers down my spine. She's not the only tribute to have done this too.

"That's nice." I say cheerily, trying to stay upbeat, "So you are enjoying your stay in the Capitol then?"

Oh yes Caesar, everything's so great, everyone's so nice. And of course the weapons," She sighs, "oh, the weapons, really we need something back at district eleven like that, though I suppose that would count as training for the games and that's not allowed." She says and I glance at the careers, seeing them squirm in their seats. They train for the games, there's no doubting that.

"Thank you very much Thistle, I'm afraid our time is up but I'll think about it always!" I smile and then nod in the direction of the audience, "Come on, let's give her a round of applause then!" A cheer erupts from there and soon Thistle is sitting back down and I prepare myself for the next two lives on the line.

**THIS IS ONE LONG A/N – almost a chapter's worth!**

**D12 IS NOT GOING UP UNTIL I HAVE AT LEAST 5 ENTRIES TO THE CRAZY CAPTION COMPETITION SO SUBMIT WITH YOUR REVIEW!**

**Just D12 and then we're into the games themselves – finally! Yay! Oh, here's a shout out to my new Gamemaker, 'pattyo123', I hope s/he is as good as the rest of my wonderful team! I've got 2 caption winners to sort out – so here it goes. The winner to the first one was 'Arcticmist' and the second was 'RiversofVenice'. Since there were the only 2 guys ENTERING these stuff then I felt complied to give each one of then another win, so here they are! Enter – PLEASE? What about 'lacrosefreak100', you keep on reviewing? Just enter a competition, all you have to do is finish the caption – no catch! OK – here are the two winners and their captions!**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are in a history class with your teacher learning about some terrible disaster, like usual (or not in my case) you aren't paying attention until the teacher suddenly whips into your face and glares at you, asking you what you think. You say...**

"**Um... well, I think the disaster was bad and that crazy leader shouldn't have..." *awkward pause***

**CRAZY CAPTION : You are going camping with your friends and you're crowding around the campfire, roasting marshmallows and making up ghosts, ghouls and creatures. Your friend just perfects one about a demon made out of coals from a fire and it's your turn to think up of a creature, but all you can come up with is...**

"**Our Chemistry teacher. Now THAT'S scary!"**

**Good, your tribute's life has been ELONGATED, I'm checking out Arcticmist's one right now to see the life expectancy and to boost it – then I'll do RiversOfVenice! Now here's the new caption and I'm not publishing D12 until I have 5 entries for this so you better submit!**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You're having one of those days, you get up and trip over a random sock, face first onto the irritatingly hard part of the floor, you accidently put on your embarrassing 'fireman Sam' pyjamas and your friends see you in it as you slip down the stairs. You end up deciding that the day just couldn't get any worse but it does, what happens is... **

**MAKE THEM FUNNY – REMEMBER NO D12 REAPINGS UNTIL I GET AT LEAST 5 ENTRIES!**

**It sounds evil but I need entries, and it's good for you and your tribute's too, it doesn't matter how bad, just come up with something, ANYTHING! Oh, yes, I am having one of those days today so I felt like writing about it. Just for the record I don't possess 'Fireman Sam' pyjamas, I possess 'Blue Cow' ones instead, which is about the same level... **

**SO GET REVIWING, SUBMITTING AND READING GNAWING HUNGER TOO – IN FACT I'LL GIVE YOU A BRIEF SYNOPSIS OF ALL MY HUNGER GAMES FANFICTIONS!**

**Gnawing Hunger: Kara Jaymond, the rich daughter of the retired head Peacekeeper, finds herself being reaped alongside her maid, Vivian Hall, but a dark secret lies between them regarding their mother and the assassins Vivian let into their house to kill Kara's father and ended up killing her mother. But the games unravel all of this and more including romance, deceit, death and a true feeling of being completeness.**

**The Realisation Of Hunger: Short one-shots from Gnawing Hunger, hidden scenes and different points of character's view. Look through the eyes of Vivian, Anvike, Dral, Suzie, Caesar Flickerman, Kara's parents and much much more.**

**Blizzard Of Emotions: A short one-short set in a snowy tundra terrain about a tribute's death.**

**Luck, Doubt, Pain, BLOOD: A tribute's death and feeling throughout. Luck: how it disappears so quickly, Doubt: swelling up inside yourself, Pain: a fire coursing through your soul. BLOOD.**

**So PLEASE read them and review, especially Gnawing hunger! I've had 64 reviews for it in just over a month since I started writing it and every one of them positive! It's hard to get into but once you do you won't regret it – I promise you, and Kara is NOT another mini Katniss!**

UBELIEVABLY long A/N finished, if you didn't read this please do, at least skim through it anyway, because it does contain important information that you'll need to know - tribute in the games or not!


	28. D12 Interviews

**I KNOW I said I wouldn't post this until I had 5 entries but I was desperate so I posted it, but the bloodbath isn't going up until I get at least 1 review for this so if you're reading this – review!**

**D12**

I watch the last boy struggle up to the stage under the weight of his ridiculous outfit. I'm not going to go into details but I can say that I know why the stylist was assigned to district twelve. He reaches the seat and slumps into it, depositing the weight of the outfit onto the armrests and he grins at me, looking very nervous.

"Hello Caesar." He squeaks pathetically, "Can I just say that it is a huge-"

"Of course," I cut in, "So Braxlin, Braxlin Coal, isn't it?"

Braxlin nods solemnly, then stares, wide eyed at the audience. It looks like this poor boy has stage fright, I suppose I would too if I had had a camera shoved up my nose for the past week or so. He smiles weakly, trying to return my courageous beam pitifully.

"What happened in training? What was your tactic?" I ask, breaking the silence between us. The audience disrespectfully natters on in the background.

"I was trying to pick up new skills, find what I was good at." Explains Braxlin.

"What are you good at?" I ask him.

"A few things, I guess I can survive..." murmurs Braxlin.

"So what happened with your training score?" I ask, trying to seem sympathetic.

"I got a two." Says Braxlin bluntly.

"I know that, I mean why did you get a two?" I ask him.

"I guess the Gamemakers don't think I can win." Says Braxlin, as if confiding a secret to me.

"Are they right?" I ask him.

"You'll just have to wait and see." Braxlin says, then turns to me from his outfit he has been fiddling with, "But you won't have to wait long."

"No we won't, will we?" I ask and the odd 'no' is shouted out from the audience, the loudest from Minty of course.

"Why?" Asks Braxlin. I lean forward and put my hand on his shoulder, but when he tries to recoil I hold it firm, I don't want him squirming away.

"The games start..." I pause for affect and face the audience, "TOMORROW!" I roar and a sea of clapping escapes from the audience, everyone evidently excited about the slaughter that is going to take place. Everybody except the twenty-four shivering tributes before me, their faces piteous.

"Right, thank you Braxlin, but now we have our final and last tribute, so all put your hands together for Match Lyte!" I call and the district twelve girl struggles up to the stage on the wonky steps and places herself down on the human skin chair, repulsed.

"Hello Match, now what do you think about the hunger games overall?" I ask, knowing full well that it's a lie that will spout out of her mouth.

"They're so... such..." She says.

"Yes?" I prompt.

"You can't describe them, they mean a lot to both the people in the districts and in the Capitol no doubt; they really are a cause for strong emotions, though I am not sure if my family will be joining in with the celebrations, they'll probably be too worried about me." Says Match and I smile knowingly. She didn't say she liked them once or that they were good, she just says what she believes, but twists it so it sounds good. I like this girl.

"So Match, what do you think about your stylists, your mentor and your escort?" I ask, I haven't used that question so far so I guess it's good that I am using it, better late than never. As she speaks about each person the camera swivels to them.

"My escort is lively and really happy all the time, she's very bubbly and excitable, but she has the experience. My designer is original and makes sure everyone stands out, he's comes up with really unique pieces of work. My styling team are interesting and seem obsessed with the hunger games and are happy. My mentor, Iante Great. Well, I don't know what to think about him really, he's a hulk of a man and is really actually quite frightening. I guess I'll have to join him if I win, so I guess that's one incentive to die." Match says, making the audience laugh and even a few claps ring about the stage.

"Good Match, so how do you find the other tributes?" I ask her.

"They're all very good and very clever, especially the careers, they scare me a lot. I guess I'll find my own strengths in the arena though, even if I couldn't find them in training." Match says.

"Ah yes, your two, how do you feel about that?" I ask.

"Tributes have won the games with a training score of two before Caesar, just you remember that." Match points out to me.

"So do you think you can win?" I ask.

"I can aim to win, but I never know, the future isn't something to predict, it's something to live, or die in twenty-three of our cases." Says Match.

"If you were to win the games what hobby would you take up?" I ask her, a nice and simple end to a nice and simple interview.

"Although my designer has made some really inspirational stuff I'd really have to go for cooking, I've always wanted to cook and if I win I'll be able to."

"Thank you Match, now that's the end of our interview!" I call out to the audience as soon as Match sits back down in her seat. "Well we'll just have to see if what they said is true when the hunger games start tomorrow and who gets knocked out in the bloodbath! I'll see you all next year!"

I smile to the audience and then stride off the stage. As soon as I've finished I collapse onto the arms of a waiting team of medics and feel myself get rushed off to hospital to be pumped full of yet more drugs. Maybe I won't see them next year after all.

**Bloodbath next - FINALLY! The winner of the crazy caption competition is 'lacrosse(**sucks**)freak100'. I'll post it!**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You're having one of those days, you get up and trip over a random sock, face first onto the irritatingly hard part of the floor, you accidently put on your embarrassing 'fireman Sam' pyjamas and your friends see you in it as you slip down the stairs. You end up deciding that the day just couldn't get any worse but it does, what happens is... **

**'You go to the bathroom and you slip on a rubber duck. Then you do a front flip and your head gets stuck in the toilet!'**

**So feel proud! Bloodbath up next! =D YESSSSSSSSSS! I just realized - the interviews are over and the bloodbath is up!**

**"Have a happy hunger games, let the odds be forever in your favour and let the games BEGIN!"**

**~Snevverz **

**~Snevvie**

**~Snev**

**~Snap**

**~SnevSnap**

**~Sneverus**

**~Snapers**

**~SneverusSnapers**

**(OK - random, I better stick with one now... um...)**

**~SnevSnap**


	29. Bloodbath

**Lusa Canvis (D9)**

I clench my token in my hand and toss it high up in the air, just to catch it again. My raven badge means a lot to me, but really my life means more than that. I know what I'm going to do, I haven't discussed it with my mentor's but there's nothing to discuss. I'm going to die in these games and if I'm going down then I want to take somebody with me. I feel the launch pad rise and I try to steady my shaking legs without much success. With twenty-four tributes to cover I'll be fine though, well, that's what I just keep telling myself. I'll be fine.

As soon as the blinding light glimpses from above I try my best not to squint and to admire my surroundings, this choice could very mean life or death. I have to decide where to go. I look up and stare around me. Behind me is thick shrubbery slowly folding into a forest, to my right the sun is beating down and the plants lessen, the ground is long and even and is bare as well as sandy, some sort of barren desert. In front of me is the glistening gold Cornucopia, filled up with supplies and weapons, the careers may get that but I really need it more than them, though since I'm only small I don't need to eat as much as the others.

But I don't look at the trickling stream separating the tributes from the cornucopia, a loop of silvery water, constantly flowing although it has no-where to move to. Neither do I look at the looming hill, almost tall enough to be a mountain which top seems to level off onto some sort of plateau or the large crevasse separating us from it unless we go through the desert. No, I look at the tributes beside me, anxiously looking to see which one is more of a threat. To my left is the boy from three, Cole Dallan and to my right is the girl from six, Reena Woodson. Next to her is the boy from eight, Robert I think it is. He's not a threat and I couldn't reach him anyway. I think about it, Cole got a four and Reena got a seven, I target Reena.

I feel my token become dead weight in my hands and sweat coat it, endangering me of dropping it, but I mustn't do that, whatever happens. I know if I drop it the mines scattered around my feet will explode, breaking both my token and myself. But also I've found a fault with these mines. We're not shut in, the mines are on the ground, not in the air around us. We can do whatever we want there.

I look down at my chunky black belt and baggy brown trousers which seem to let heat both flow and stop through them, my loose cream t-shirt which I can cover up with at night with my camouflage hoodie and a strip of cloth that seems to have been intentionally tucked into my belt along with a water flask. It seems the Gamemakers have been generous, allowing us to have something with us.

I feel the seconds beating away along with my heart and I sense time is almost up. I see all the other tributes poised, ready to sprint into the Cornucopia and grab something, Reena included, but they won't know what's coming to them. I feel my badge's smooth metal caressing my skin. It was meant to possess the powers of the ravens, and if you destroy it the ravens were meant to seek you out wherever you are and destroy you. Pah, superstitious nonsense, it's just a badge, but I'm fond of it and don't really want to let it go. _A badge for a life_, I remind myself and toss the badge high into the air, soaring over and settling on the mines by Reena's feet. I am just able to see the glimpse of realisation on her face of what I've done before the badge meets soft earth and metal clashes with metal, then all hell breaks loose.

**Reena Woodson (D6)**

Two words - Mottled Mushrooms.

**Thistle Clay (D11)**

There is a massive explosion from the other side of the bloodbath followed by a scream from both a boy and a girl. It looks like whoever it was died quickly at the mercy of the mines but the one next to them got caught by something, maybe some shrapnel. But there is no mine explosion this time so I assume that they didn't fall off. What a way to die. I just wonder if they jumped, ran for it or fell off, either way they're dead. I'm just about to contemplate something else when I realize that the gong is ringing my ears, the announcement proposing the beginning of the hundred and fifty-third hunger games not heard through the racket off the mines. I feel the searing heat on my back but I can't let this opportunity get overlooked. Everyone else is frozen because of the mines but I heard the gong. I sprint off towards the Cornucopia and hear a lumbering behind me but I ignore it, that's not important. I'm going to get there first.

I run in and swoop down to pick up a bow and a set of arrows. I feel my hands brush the silky wood, much better quality then they have in the training centre, then yank them up and quickly hoist my arrows onto my back in the satchel there is there. I needn't count them, they always come in dozens and it looks like I have two dozen here. I notch the arrow to my bow and then pause. Could I really kill? My decision is decided for me by my subconscious and soon I see an arrow fly straight into the heart of the district six boy, Brink Freeman. I try not to gape at what I've done and bend down to snatch up a loaf of bread from the boy's already cold hands and sprint as fast as I can towards the woods. It's important that I do that as fast as possible.

As I run I notch another arrow to my bow just in case and hold it up to show that I have a weapon, making the boy from district nine swerve out of my way, just to be impaled on the end of a lethal, pointy looking sword in the hands of the district two girl, Twira Hearthright. She grins menacingly and glances at me, but when she sees I have a bow and arrow she turns away without question. I guess she knows I won't shoot her unless I need to, and although I really want to cause pain onto her for what she did to that poor boy, Dallas Starconn, I know that she's right and I wouldn't kill her. After only another moment's hesitation I sprint into the woods, leaving the scene of chaos behind me and another target on my list – survival.

**Tournaline "Tour" Solier (D1)**

I know this is real as soon as I see the district eleven girl shoot an arrow straight through the heart of the boy from six. This isn't just some game anymore, but I'm from district one, I have to play the career even if I'm not one. I charge around, glancing for a target, a way to prove myself. Finally I see him, Robert Tars, no; the boy from eight, he doesn't have a name in my books. He has a piece of shrapnel sticking out of his side and he is groaning desperately, easy prey. If I'm to be a career I have to think like a career, no matter how hard that is.

I stride up to him and then realize I have nothing to kill him with. I glance around and then Rod Giffords sprints my way and tosses me a knife to me which I catch with ease before going to face the boy from seven who pauses and then swings an axe at him, gashing his upper arm so he drops his weapon before sprinting away into the forest with a camouflaged backpack. Rod curses, but I ignore him. I have a job to do. I look down at the boy, his eyes pleading for me to let him go, to save him. I laugh a cruel, menacing laugh. I really am getting into this career thing. I bend down by him, pause, then mutter something barely audible, but no worries, the camera will pick it up after a bit of effort.

"Sweet dreams." I say, and then slide the knife across his throat, slitting it and stopping his breathing. I smile, it wasn't too hard. I thought it would be terrible, a weight never lifted off your shoulders, but I feel fine, exhilarated even. I look at Robert's dead body and stand up happily. I turn around to see Destiny Bond right by my face, smiling sweetly. I give her a cheesy grin.

"Yo! You alright?" I ask her. Despite being in the middle of the bloodbath I'm a career, I'm invincible.

"I am now." Mutters Destiny. I look at her, puzzled. What does she mean? But then I understand as the knife she just stuck into my stomach gets yanked out and the warm sticky blood laces it. I look at her, a betrayed look on my face.

"That was for Lily!" She hisses at me and my face pales, no happy smiles or winning smile, just blankness. I slowly sink to my knees and drift into oblivion, the same words echoing around my head, _that was for Lily, that was for Lily, that was for Lily_...

**Match Lyte (D12)**

I see the boy from eleven sprint off with a backpack and a couple of knives ticked into his belt and the tributes from five run off together, carrying two packs of crackers, a waterproof poncho and a knife between them. I stare around, oblivious to the careers running around, sighting any new prey. I see Shale Overheart and Lainey Rain with them; sometimes people just act like you never thought they would.

I pause for a second, I should go, but I haven't got anything, I need something to survive or there won't be much surviving about it. My conscious screams at me to get out of there but I hang in and dart into the centre Cornucopia, unseen. My eyes glow with all the riches around me and my heart goes haywire. I don't know what to pick – there's so much. I could go for a tent or a whole gallon of water but I need to take something I can carry. I pause and then snatch a spare water container, the one we've got is so small, a loaf of bread, packet of crackers, pop-up one man tent and a heavy carving knife, you never know when it might come in useful, even if it may be other tributes I'm carving. I shiver at the thought but creep out of the Cornucopia just to see all of the careers staring straight at me as they would to a delicious Capitol meal. I take a step back but it's too late. They loom in, ready for a kill.

I dart forwards and try to make a break for it. I almost do so and would have if it wasn't for Twira lunging my way and pressing cold metal to my throat. She sniffs, almost relishing the line of blood she has drawn and I feel repulsed to see my blood mingle with that of another tribute's which is stuck on her sword. I cry out and with that the deed is done and I topple over, my head spinning. I will never go home now, I will never eat soup for three square meals a day and cook, I will never dream or fulfil my dreams because I am dead.

**That was it, quite short but I got all of the juicy deaths in there so it's done!**

**If your tribute died please keep on reading to support other tributes and you never know – I might bring one back from the dead in a complicated way. Please don't hate me and tell me what you thought!**

**Here is a list of the dead tributes, all six of them. I will say they are dead even if they are faking it, you shall find out with the faces in the sky or the cannon shots.**

**Match Lyte (D12 Girl)**

**Dallas Starconn (D9 Boy)**

**Robert Tars (D8 Boy)**

**Brink Freeman (D6 Boy)**

**Reena Woodson (D6 Girl)**

**Tournaline "Tour" Solier (D1 Boy)**

**I'm happy now it's out but I want to know if you are!**

**~Snevertron**


	30. Cannonfire

_**D**__AY __**O**__NE_

**Shale Overheart (D2)**

I look around the bloodbath, the chaos left behind evident even though the bodies have been hoisted up by the hover craft. I pause and look in disgust at Twira, who laughed as she killed two poor children. I look around, there's Destiny Bond, Twira Hearthright, me, Lainey Rain and Rod Giffords. The boy from district one isn't here. Eventually I strike up a conversation, if I'm to pretend I want to be a career I have to act like a career.

"Where's everyone gone then?" I ask and there is a pause.

"I killed the boy from one and I saw the two tributes from three run off together with a piece of tarpaulin." Destiny says, breaking the silence. We don't comment about our would be ally's death, we know she has it against him and it was pretty much inevitable that he would end up dead one way or the other.

"The tributes from five made it but the ones from six didn't." explains Lainey with a slightly paled face, evidently distressed by this like me. It's strange, I would have thought of her as a typical career but she seems more than that, almost someone.

"The girl from seven sprinted away with only a pack of crackers and a spare water container but snatched one of my axes when I had a little skirmish with the boy from the same district but they both away," Growls Rod, putting his hand protectively to his stinging cut he got from the axe the boy from seven swung at him just half an hour or so before.

"Boy from eight's dead, girl from eight got away with a loaf of bread and a pack of crackers, b ut then she bolted. It was a matter of snatch and run." Explains Twira, "really, we're careers, this is a pathetic attempt of a bloodbath, all of us should have killed at least one, if not two like me. This really is a pathetic bunch of careers." Huffs Twira and she goes back to sharpening her sword.

"You, um, speared the boy from nine with your sword," I say to Twira who grins mischievously, "And the little girl from nine pulled a stunt with the mines, killing the girl from six, but she bolted straight after."

"The tributes from ten both ran straight away, so they're going to die easily and the boy from eleven made it, I don't know what with and the girl from eleven left with a bow and arrows and some bread, she's one to watch out for, she killed." Destiny states and glances around hurriedly.

"The girl from twelve died, we were all there to see it and surprisingly the other little runt from twelve got away with a spare water container." Rod growls visciously.

"It's good that we know what everyone has, and as I see it there is no serious immediate threat." States Twira, _apart from the fact we're all out to kill each other, _I add in my head, "So we'll set up camp and then go out to the woods to hunt tributes. There are two pairs of night vision goggles so we'll split into two groups. Rod will come with me and Lainey, Destiny and Shale, you three will go together. I'll have night vision and so will Destiny, we'll lead our packs. But first we have to set up camp, come on!" Dictates Twira.

**Willow Grams (D10)**

The cannon-shots from after the bloodbath ring throughout the arena.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Six tributes are dead, the thought whizzes around my head. Who? Well, I'll just have to find out won't I? I let the thoughts churn inside my head and try to ignore the gaze my district partner, Mitchel, is sending towards me. Eventually I snap.

"What?" I ask angrily and Mitchel looks away guiltily.

"I was just thinking that maybe we should have got _something _at the bloodbath, now we're going to starve." He mutters his explanation hurriedly and I glare at him. How could he be so stupid?

"It's better to starve to death then die at the end of a career's sword." I point out.

"At least it would have been quick." Argues Mitchel.

"We have a chance now," I hiss, raising my voice, "We wouldn't have had any in the bloodbath, we would have been cut to ribbons!"

I turn away from the moron and skulk away from him. He's just so stupid, though maybe that was a bit harsh, he had a valid point. But what's worrying going to do for us? The bloodbath has already happened. I sigh heavily, there's no point arguing now, we just have to face our differences and stay together or we'll both die. Childish squabbles just won't help. I should apologise, I turn around and about to speak when a rustling comes from the bushes beside us. We have no weapons or anything to protect ourselves with so we back up until we are pressed against a tree and crouch down, ready to run. A figure creeps out and faces us, Nate, the boy from district eleven. He has a knife in one hand and another knife tucked into his belt alongside his water container. Mitchel and I glance at each other. He has two knives and a rucksack, that rucksack could give us a sporting chances and there are two knives, one for each of us. We slowly step forward simultaneously but Nate holds up the second knife so we're both in his range.

"I don't want to hurt you," Says Nate calmly, "but I will be forced to if you try anything. Now put your weapons and supplies _down_."

He thinks we have weapons, I am just thinking we could swing this our way when Mitchel ruins it all. "We don't have any." He blurts. Nate raises an eyebrow and studies us for any signs of weapons or supplies. He doesn't seem to understand what he's seeing.

"I don't believe you. Where have you hidden them?" He asks viciously and I pale.

"It's true, we don't have any. Please let us go!" I plead desperately.

He stares at my eyes for an excruciatingly long time and the looks down at the ground. "I believe you." He murmurs and lowers his knives. He must have seen something in my eyes that convinced him we were telling the truth. I just hope that it doesn't work the other way and people can tell when I'm lying.

There's an awkward pause and Mitchel and I stare at Nate as he looks blankly at us, but then I sense the perfect opportunity. A grin springs to my face and I smile at Nate.

"We could form an alliance!" I say gleefully, Nate seems to be sontemplating this but then Mitchel speaks up.

"I don't think so-" He starts but then Nate cuts in.

"Sure!" Nate agrees and with that he tugs his backpack down and unzips it.

Mitchel and I stare at the provisions inside. It has some food, bandages and equipment for purifying water as well as a blanket and a sheet of plastic. It's not exactly Capitol comfort but it's better than it would have been without him. I look up and meet Nate's smile, but it soon sinks as he pulls out his spare knife and hands it for me to take, the smooth, cold metal serious and lethal. I look up at him, unsure of what I'm meant to do.

"Only if you need it." He says seriously as I tuck the knife into my belt. _Only if I need it_, I tell myself, _only if I need it_.

**Arcturus "Arc" Starre**

Fenora and I trample through the forest, slowly looping around so we are heading towards the plateau on top of the hill, there might be a lessening in the width of the chasm that separates us from it so we can cross and not have to go via the barren desert. Our supplies are basically a pack of crackers, a knife and a waterproof poncho, all of which we managed to salvage at the bloodbath. We carry them between us, Fenora carrying the knife in her belt and me wearing the poncho and carrying a pack of crackers. Fenora suddenly stops and sighs, causing me to halt too. I look at her expectantly, her fox-like features keeping her alert and lively.

"We can't go on like this." She says and I look at her quizzically, almost as if to say 'why?', she rolls her eyes at me impatiently, "Two district five tributes with a handful of supplies and a whole lot more of ambition? Come on, it's not going to happen. We've got to set up camp somewhere, sit these games out. Fight on the defensive front, that kind of thing."

"Fine by me, but where should we camp?" I ask, "The only supply of water I've seen is that silver loop around the Cornucopia.

"There will be water somewhere; they never have one water supply." Fenora reassures, which is something she's not very good at.

I freeze as I remember the year before last where there was just one big desert and the only water supply was an oasis two days walk from the Cornucopia. Those who didn't die of thirst on the way died in the bloody battle there over water. The winner was a girl that had hid at the beginning and just stayed at the Cornucopia when the careers left in search of water and drank the gallons they had left behind which they couldn't carry.

"When you say never..." I mutter.

"Trust me." She cuts in, "There will be water, and nearby, we just have to go away from the Cornucopia."

There is a pause while we shift feet and shuffle around, "Umm... which way is away from the Cornucopia?" I ask and Fenora just shrugs. Just perfect, I stare up at the sky which is rapidly darkening and see the glimpse of a couple of the stars.

"This way." I say, pointing to our left.

"How do you know?" she asks, suspicious.

"The stars."I state and she cocks her head, contemplating the viability of my story and then finally sets off in the direction I pointed to. She beckons me to follow and we set off in search of water and a shelter.

**Most chapters will be over three sides of A4 like this so don't worry! No-one died in this chapter and the six cannon shots confirmed the deaths were genuine. The next chapter should be the careers hunting and one or two more alliances being formed meanwhile, the hunt may last for over a chapter though. The amount of deaths per day will be about one, but not every chapter is a day. The day it is will be displayed at the top! Please review and I hope you're enjoying this!**


	31. The Hunt Begins & AN

**All who didn't have their tributes mentioned before shall have their tributes mentioned in this chapter, the career's tribute hunting only starts at the end though so don't get your hopes up. Oh – and if anybody knows the creator of Axel can you ask him / her to review since I haven't had one review from them so far and that might consequence in a sticky end...**

_**D**__AY __**O**__NE_

**Lindsey Gray (D7)**

I trudge along, the cold night air shivering down my spine, making me bitter and exhausted. I have a pack of crackers in one hand with an axe swinging in the other. I have a spare water container tucked into my belt but no water inside it. I sigh, what was the point of running up to the district four boy and stealing one of his axes, risking my life both to him and my district partner, Axel, if all I can do with it is keep it hefty in my hand? I could never use it even if I wanted to, a spear is the weapon I decided on, and even if I grew up in district seven where everyone uses axes I worked in a paper mill, so I don't actually cut the trees down at all, I just help work the machines for making paper.

I swing the axe in the air in front of me, it's not working. Well now I've got a weapon I should be happy, what about other people then? They don't have a weapon, but what use is a weapon if I don't know how to use it? Maybe I should practise. I stop for a second, soon I'll have to make a shelter but I think I can safely say that I should be alright with a couple of throws. I put my pack of crackers on the ground and hold the axe high behind my head, ready to throw it. I strain my muscles and am about to release the axe when I feel another hand grasp mine and a male voice says.

"Oh, you wouldn't want to do that."

I spin around and am faced by my district partner Axel gripping the axe and grinning at me, I pause momentarily and then speak up.

"Why?" I ask quite simply, fearing the answer.

"Because if you threw an axe like that you might hit your head and I wouldn't want that to happen to my future ally." Axel says, his voice soft. My head reels even without an axe embedded in it.

"Ally?" I ask suspiciously.

"Ally." Axel confirms and turns to the axe, prising it out of my grip. Now I'm unarmed. Then Axel hold up his other hand with another sort of weapon and brings it down to me and I flinch, ready for the lethal blow but pause when I feel plastic being pressed into my hand. I look down, Axel has handed me a spear. I turn to him, surprised.

"Where did you get this?" I ask him but her just shrugs.

"The bloodbath, same place you got your kit."

I smile and stroke the spear, "It's perfect!" I say and then pick up the pack of crackers I left on the floor and open them, handing one to Axel and one to myself.

"Dinner is served!" I say, mimicking the uppity Capitol accent and Axel sniggers as he slowly chews on the cracker alongside me and we eat in silence, looking at each other. I never wanted an ally but it doesn't seem I've been given much choice in the matter, I just hope he's a good choice and doesn't end up backstabbing me, although we came from the same district we had never met before we were reaped, and afterwards none of us were exactly in the mood for conversation. I smile at him and he smiles back. Lindsey and Axel, the district seven duo.

**Cole Dallan (D3)**

I trample through the woods and look at Quazza who has been following me since the bloodbath.

"Go away!" I hiss at her angrily but she still follows me.

"Listen, you could benefit with an alliance with me." She says, repeating the same words she has said for the last few hours.

"How?" I ask, turning to face her. Like every tribute I have noticed we went straight into the forest, but all we got from the bloodbath was a piece of tarpaulin, no food, no anything.

"I'm carrying the tarpaulin!" She hisses and I turn to her and try to snatch it but she pulls it away from my grasp.

"Allies?" She asks, putting out her hand for me to shake. I pause. She's really annoying but she is eighteen and could be of some use to me, I still think she's weird but that's just me I guess. I consider it. If I don't ally with her I'll have to end up killing her and I don't want that. I roll my eyes and stick out my hand for her to shake. She smiles solemnly, a serious look suddenly about her and then stops, frozen.

"What is it?" I whisper to her.

"There's someone in that tree!" She hisses, pointing to the tree above us. We have no weapons but the chances are neither will they if they are hiding in a tree, I indicate for her to stay here and I pause for a second.

"Come down, we can see you!" I call and there is a slight rustling from the tree and a small, scrawny looking boy scrambles down, his glasses thick like owl's lenses. I smile at him uneasily; it's the boy from district twelve, the useless one. I can't kill him, I just can't, and I don't have a weapon even if I could bring myself to do it. I hold up a spare water container and tosses it down to us.

"That's all I have, please let me go!" He whimpers. I'm just about to say fine when Quazza calls out.

"No!" She calls and I look at her.

"What! We're not killing him!" I say angrily.

"Who said anything about killing him, we're going to ally him!" Quazza says, I open my mouth to interrupt but Braxlin, the boy's name has reached the bottom and smiles happily. It reminds me of my sister Flora, who will be watching now. You know, what the tributes, I'm going to ally with him.

"Ok – welcome to the alliance then Braxlin!" I say and Braxlin and Quazza repeat me, parrot fashioned.

"The alliance!"

**Tessinal "Tess" Carter (D8)**

I bite a chunk out of the bread and I feel it's still warm, the taste makes my senses go haywire but I keep them under control. I've worked out how much food I have to eat when walking to this tree which is exactly the right strength to sustain my weight and has the exact right amount of branches and leaves to cover me so I shouldn't be found. I'll stay low, keep undetected. That's always good; logically I have a chance then. But sometimes I just feel like telling myself to stuff logic, look at the trouble it got me into here.

I roll my eyes unnecessarily when I knock my pack of crackers off the branch but keep perched in the tree, I can pick them up in the morning. Going down now would both waste energy and time as well as endangering me in case any wandering careers come by; after all it is tribute hunting. Then I hear Panem's anthem and look up in the sky just to see the seal and then the faces appear. Due to the cannon fire earlier there should be six faces in the sky, no, there will be. I look up; the boy from one comes up first. I raise an eyebrow but say nothing, that would be a waste of energy. But a career dying in the bloodbath? That's very rare, he wasn't a particularly good career but he was a career none the less. Then both the tributes from six leap into the sky, their faces glaring at me. That was slightly predictable, I would have thought as much about the boy but not the girl, I thought she had a chance with her training score, but that meant the tributes from three survived, who I thought at least one would have went, as well as all of the other careers and the tributes from five.

Then my district partner, Robert, appears in the sky and I let out a little yelp of surprise. Robert, I talked to him yesterday, he seemed nervous, but he's dead, he's dead. The shock hits me again, dead. Robert is dead. I close my eyes and open them again, _these are the hunger games, people die_. I tell myself.

Then next comes the boy from nine, that means that at least one of the tributes from twelve survived, that's quite surprising, I had them both down as goners. Then the girl comes up, Match, well that means the boy is alive. I close my eyes again and breathe in and out slowly, controlling my breathing. In, out, in, out. Breathing, birds tweeting, trees crackling, footsteps clomping, bushes rustling – wait a second, footsteps, rustling bushes? I force my eyes open again and see Twira Hearthright and Rod Giffords below me, fishing around. I stay still, they can't see me, I analysed the tree, but still I am scared. Why? I know I'm safe, I know I'm safe. They pick up my pack of crackers, ok; maybe I'm not safe anymore.

There's a pause and then both Rod and Twira hoist themselves into the tree, it's not meant to sustain all of this weight, I calculated this earlier. Then, as if to answer my call, the tree starts to groan and slowly I feel the wood bend over the weight. I glance at the tree alongside me, I can't make it. I creep up the branches which I am unsure about whether they will sustain my weight or not. Rod has leapt out of the tree and Twira is pursuing me still, she climbs up higher and the tree suddenly snaps and topples away from the tree I was aiming for. I was trying my hardest to make it fall the other way but evidently it had other ideas. I remind myself calmly that trees don't even have ideas and it must have been the weight distributed by Twira before I crash onto the ground and Rod looms over me, he raises an axe he hold in one hand and then tucks it into his belt. I she letting me go? I breathe out in relief until I see a trident being held up high instead, change of weapon, quite unnecessarily. The axe would have done the job just as well. I try to ignore that after I realize what I have been thinking about and use my eyes to plead with him. It won't work. It doesn't work. The trident plunges into my neck and I suddenly go rigid. The cannon shot goes off signifying my death.

I look at the now ghostly pale face in the world fading around me and I just remember what I was thinking a mere few minutes earlier. _These are the hunger games, people die._

**So we end that chapter with Tess' last thoughts 'these are the hunger games and people die'. =D Really cheery! I hope you liked this chapter, sorry to the creator of Tess but she just had to go. Right, now in my poll the joint winners with three votes each are Twira Hearthright and Destiny Bond. If you haven't voted and have an account vote now! Remember – try not to vote for your own please! I've killed off seven tributes so far (I'm just going to say killed from now on, even if one of them is just faking it).**

**Kill chart:**

**Tessinal "Tess" Carter (D8 Girl)**

**Yes, she joins the list of the deceased. If you tribute dies PLEASE carry on reading because it will still be a good story and there still might be mentions of them later on as well as the fact you should be egging other tributes on, you've read this far so why not read a bit more?**

**I've decided to do a list of the tributes, showing who's dead, who allying with who, who was killed by who, that sort of thing.**

**Also I wanted to say sorry to 'Silently I Speak' who I said borrowed my idea about the tribute token setting off the mines when it was just her making it up in totally different circumstances. Sorry if I seemed mean, I didn't mean that it like that, I'm fine with it. Great idea by the way!**

**Also I wanted to apologise for putting 'Lainey' multiple times in Lindsey's interview, I got mixed up a lot. I can't change it without deleting my awesomely long A/N for that chapter so just ignore that – it's Lindsey, I honestly don't know why I wrote Lainey, my subconcious works in mysterious ways.**

_Bold means they are alive, names in brackets after the dead means who they were killed by, names in brackets after the living means allies. If they have an 'X' between them it means that the next tribute is the name of the murderer, not the ally._

District One – Luxury Goods

BOY Tournaline "Tour" Solier X _(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Destiny Bond **_(Sale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Two – Weapons, Peacekeepers +Architecture

**BOY Shale Overheart **_(Destiny Bond, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

**GIRL Twira Hearthright **_(Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Three - Electronics

**BOY Cole Dallan**_ (Quazza Willowwhisper, Braxlin Coal)_

**GIRL Quazza Willowwhisper**_ (Cole Dallan, Braxlin Coal)_

District Four - Fishing

**BOY Roderick "Rod" Giffords**_ (Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain)_

**GIRL Lainey Rain**_ (Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Five - Science

**BOY Arcturus "Arc" Starre** (_Fenora Kensington)_

**GIRL Fenora Kensington **_(Arcturus "Arc" Starre)_

District Six - Medicine

BOY Brink Freeman X (_Thistle Clay_)

GIRL Reena Woodson X _(Lusa Canvis)_

District Seven - Lumber

**BOY Axel Leaf**_ (Lindsey Gray)_

**GIRL Lindsey Gray**_ (Axel Leaf)_

District Eight - Textiles

BOY Robert Tars X (Tournaline "Tour" Solier)

GIRL Tessinal "Tess" Carter X (_Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Nine – Food Processing

BOY Dallas Starconn_X (Twira Hearthright)_

**GIRL Lusa Canvis **

District Ten - Livestock

**BOY Mitchel Rye **_(Willow Grams, Nate Morgue)_

**GIRL Willow Grams**_ (Mitchel Rye, Nate Morgue)_

District Eleven - Agriculture

**BOY Nate Morgue **_(Willow Grams, Mitchel Rye)_

**GIRL Thistle Clay**

District Twelve – Coal Mining

**BOY Braxlin Coal**_ (Quazza Willowwhisper, Cole Dallan)_

GIRL Match Lyte X (_Twira Hearthright_)

**I'll update this only when it needs updating so if no new alliances are formed and no-one dies then you won't see this at the end of the chapter, otherwise you will! Please review, and if you are a Gamemaker I want some disastrous ideas – there is a new Gamemaker in our midst, 'AlwaysHasAPlan'. This chapter knocks it over 50,000 words so give me a *scream* for that at least! =D (Most of it is A/Ns... =O) So review! Most chapters will be this length although tha A/Ns won't, I just havea thing for long A/Ns! =D**


	32. Careers on the Prowl

_**D**__AY __**T**__WO_

**Destiny Bond (D1)**

I look at Lainey and Shale, they're hopeless. Well, at least that means I'll be the one to kill the tribute and gain the sponsors when the time comes if that even is a good thing. I keep on having images of Tour in my head, his face in the sky, glowering at me, knowing the only way this would be shown is if he was dead. Well he is dead and I killed him. Now everyone knows I killed him and Lily may even think I did it for her which would never leave her in peace. I don't know if I did it for her or for me. Tour was a jerk but that doesn't mean he deserved to die, when I think about it none of us deserved to die. I'm the only one out of the three of us that has had night vision goggles, I just realized we haven't left anyone to guard the base but we won't be gone long and no-one's stupid or clever enough to think about raiding it. I glance at Shale and Lainey. Every now and then I see one of them glance at the other one and then blush madly. It's ridiculous; they need to toughen up if they want to survive. I step forward through the forest then suddenly I hear some muttering.

"I told you not to talk!" I hiss at the others but it happens again and their lips are sealed. I smile cunningly and point at the place from the sound. The three of us creep forward and I am greeted by a petty sight. The boy from twelve and the two tributes from three are in a circle muttering about finding water. I almost smirk then stop myself, these games are really getting to me. Lainey and Shale creep behind me and then I count backwards on my fingers from three.

Three. Lainey and Shale check their weapons and the trio don't notice us lurking right by them.

Two. The girl, Quazza, lifts a finger and calls for silence and I copy her, just without the noise.

One. We get ready to run and the trio glance around, then Braxlin, the boy from twelve, sees us and lets out a high pitched yelp.

"Get them!" I yell and we charge into the clearing, bombarding past the shrubbery blocking our way. The three of them leap to their feet. I follow Quazza, Shale follows Cole and Lainey goes after Braxlin. They've started to bolt and I rush after Quazza. She darts through the trees and I run at full speed, she's surprisingly fast for a district three, though I suppose she is running for her life and she is eighteen just like me. But that doesn't stop me. I hare on and follow her through bushes of brambles, past tall sloping trees and even speed past a large boulder of some sort. I am gaining on her when suddenly a cannon fires and I jolt over some roots of a tree, not looking where I am going and fall on the earthy ground. I look up but she's nowhere in sight. I growl angrily and set back to the clearing to see what happened.

**Braxlin Coal (D12)**

The girl from four chases me and I stumble on, running past the air and into the clearing. I feel a knife fly past my shoulder and I screw up my eyes in desperation, but open them again so I can see. I hare on and I can hear the girl from district four running after me, her feet so light they're almost like little raindrops. It must have been easy to sneak up on us, we were like sitting ducks. The terror of what could happen hits me but I ignore it. I have to live, I have to survive. I run on and can hear crashing through the woods either side of me but no cannon fire, Cole and Quazza are still alive. I run on and then suddenly I feel my feet collide with a rock and I go sprawling on the floor. Something hits my eye, something is sticking into it. I yank it hard and I can feel a piece of glass from my glasses that was embedded inside my eye. I screech but leap to my feet. I open my other eye but all I can see is mist, some sort of grey fog. I stumble and walk into something, a tree. I walk into the other direction and I feel my stomach meet something sharp and metallic. A knife, I have just walked into a knife. I try to scream but no sound comes, I try to do something, anything but all I can feel is the pain, much worse than anything I've ever experienced before. It's like a pack of red ants have swarmed all over me, eating me bit by bit.

I open the other eye and the pain screams for me as I see a river of red and I feel warm sticky blood trickle down my face. I clench my eye shut again but it's too late, I've already made the pain worse. Slowly it ebbs to a dull aching feeling and I look up to my murderer's face. She looks at me and bends down, then whispers something slowly and carefully, her voice racked with pain too. Has she hurt herself? I can see no cuts, though I can barely see anything past a dull fuzz, an outline of shapes. Lainey bends down so her mouth is just hovering above my ear.

"I'm sorry." She whispers, barely audible, but I hear. I hear as soon as the words escape from her mouth. I hear her. That is the last thing I hear, I don't hear the cannon shot that she does that rings around the arena, I just hear _I'm sorry_, then silence.

**Fenora Kensington (D5)**

However hard it is I smile at Arc. The cannon fire echoed through the arena a few hours ago and we saw the hovercraft lift a body up into the air. We don't know who it is but we do know that whoever it was they were young. We kept moving in the direction Arc pointed to and found a small lake or a large pond, whatever you want to call it. It's about the size of the average swimming pool that you see around the Capitol, not the one they recently built in the training centre, that was an Olympian one, but this is like that and probably as deep. Arc and I have been trying to survive. Arc set a few basic traps, a trait which he learnt in the training centre and I went gathering berries. Of course I have the knife, even though Arc might need it more if it comes to a fight I'm better with it, that and I feel more protected with it by me. I really wonder how everyone's doing. I know that now eight of us are dead, so there are sixteen of us left.

I pick the berries, checking each and every one. Mainly there are blackberries but I've seen a few unusual ones which I've steered away from, it's best to be on the safe side. Yet still I'm inquisitive and my curious nature gets the better of me and I look at the peculiar almost purple berries in front of me, they look like blackberries, maybe they're some sort of variation. But I know a variation might mean a poisonous variation so I go with my better instincts and leave them be for the time coming. I get back to the base which consists of the waterproof poncho suspended on four sticks to make a makeshift tent that barely even fits one person. It's basically a canopy and I didn't trust it so I let Arc sleep there for the night but now it seems fine, I guess we'll work on our shelter later. We have plenty of time and plenty of things to do.

Arc is already there, water in the middle of purifying and he's gutting a rabbit. I smile at him; that will keep us fed for a few days. Of course we can't make a fire at night but in the day it's a different matter. In the daylight a fire isn't too bad as long as you just use leaves which you keep a steady supply of on the top to trap the smoke and you build the fire away from your camp. I head to Arc and smile at him, then pick a stick up from the pile of firewood we collected this morning and join Arc on the log. I get my knife out and start whittling the wood, sharpening the end to a point.

"What are you doing?" Arc asks after a while, looking at my stick.

"I'm making a makeshift spear for you." I explain, then keep carving.

"That's great but I don't think it's going to be that effective unless driven in that hard, and I'm not great with weapons." Says Arc. I roll my eyes at him, he's being stupid again. I keep my calm demeanour though and hand it to him.

"How does it feel?" I ask him.

"I still don't see how-"

"How does it feel?" I ask again, my voice not getting louder but still becoming sharper.

"Fine, it's fine." Says Arc, "But Fenora, I can't see how this is going to help me fight tributes."

"It's not." I say simply, he should have got it by now.

"Then why have you given it to me?" He asks and I breathe in and out again, simply and easily. He's really not helping me stay calm.

"It's for spearing fish Arc, though I guess you could use it otherwise if you really need to." I explain, stating the absolute obvious. Arc's mouth forms and 'O' shape and I take the spear back and continue sharpening it.

"Imbecile." I mutter, and then continue with my carving, trying to keep away thoughts of imminent danger.

**Well... most chapters will have 3 POVs - I think I've settled on that. This was a short one but no matter!**

**I hope you liked this short chapter. Now here is the tribute list updated:**

District One – Luxury Goods

BOY Tournaline "Tour" Solier X _(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Destiny Bond **_(Sale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Two – Weapons, Peacekeepers +Architecture

**BOY Shale Overheart **_(Destiny Bond, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

**GIRL Twira Hearthright **_(Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Three - Electronics

**BOY Cole Dallan**_(Quazza Willowwhisper)_

**GIRL Quazza Willowwhisper**_(Cole Dallan__)_

District Four - Fishing

**BOY Roderick "Rod" Giffords**_ (Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain)_

**GIRL Lainey Rain**_ (Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Five - Science

**BOY Arcturus "Arc" Starre** (_Fenora Kensington)_

**GIRL Fenora Kensington **_(Arcturus "Arc" Starre)_

District Six - Medicine

BOY Brink Freeman X (_Thistle Clay_)

GIRL Reena Woodson X _(Lusa Canvis)_

District Seven - Lumber

**BOY Axel Leaf**_ (Lindsey Gray)_

**GIRL Lindsey Gray**_ (Axel Leaf)_

District Eight - Textiles

BOY Robert Tars X (Tournaline "Tour" Solier)

GIRL Tessinal "Tess" Carter X (_Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Nine – Food Processing

BOY Dallas Starconn_X (Twira Hearthright)_

**GIRL Lusa Canvis **

District Ten - Livestock

**BOY Mitchel Rye **_(Willow Grams, Nate Morgue)_

**GIRL Willow Grams**_ (Mitchel Rye, Nate Morgue)_

District Eleven - Agriculture

**BOY Nate Morgue **_(Willow Grams, Mitchel Rye)_

**GIRL Thistle Clay**

District Twelve – Coal Mining

BOY Braxlin Coal_ X (Lainey Rain)_

GIRL Match Lyte X (_Twira Hearthright_)

**So review your thoughts and I'm sorry to RB aka. Momoloveslife5th-6th but really Braxlin was asking to be killed and I had a hard time not killing him in the bloodbath where he originally went. I just had to move him out for the hard players in this game. I hope you keep reading this Momo, despite Braxlin's demise and don't hate me too much for it.**


	33. The Raven's Revenge

_**D**__AY __**T**__WO_

**Lusa Canvis (D9)**

I feel naked without my token, it's always meant so much to me and now it's gone I feel like another person, that and the fact that I'm a murderer. I may have not drawn the blood, the mines did the work, but still it happened. I am a murderer. You might walk across the street and see me and think nothing more than 'look at that cute little girl', you definitely wouldn't know that I have killed. Reena Woodson, I heard somewhere that her friends called her Ree, it's so strange what comes up after a long time. But I bolted, I could have had a chance after that display at the bloodbath but no, I bolted. Now I am thirsty, more than thirsty, I'm parched. I can barely breathe but my voice is just a rasp. There has been no rain, no rain at all. Well what did I expect going into the desert? It was stupid of me really, I thought I could get to the other side, to the hill full of lush vegetation and other such things but I couldn't.

I look left and then I look right, sand, sand, sand, oasis, sand. I ignore all of it, including the oasis. It's a mirage, it all is. You keep on going and it never gets any closer, it makes you desperate, oh so desperate. I close my eyes with determination and then open them again. I will keep on walking, I will keep going this. I took off my hoodie ages ago, it's lying deserted in the middle of a desert somewhere, left alone. I should have kept it with me, little did I know what the desert nights were like. I was lucky to survive the last one, I curled into a ball and buried myself into the sand, ignoring all needs of safety. There are sand scorpions here, and there was this creature which buried it's way across the sand, you would just see a lump moving. I don't know what it is and I don't want to find out. I would turn back but I can't – I'll be dead if I go back, so I must press on. My throat burns and I can feel all the moisture being sucked out of my bones through sweat which I am using to cool myself down. To save myself I am killing myself, ironic really.

I step forward and then something catches my eye, a creature! I slowly creep towards it and get a closer look, it's some type of bird. I freeze, a raven! I bend down and examine it, it's just a young bird and it seems to have been abandoned but it's alive. I smooth its feathers which feel oddly metallic and then it thrashes out with its yellow beak and a drop of blood flicks off my finger to the ground. Suddenly it goes mad, writhing around and going berserk, then I see another raven come and another and another. They're attracted to my blood! I pull the strip of cloth that was attached to our outfit over my finger but it's too late, a flock of ravens are coming my way, and then I look at them, they're not real ravens. Their beaks are too sharp, their eyes too red, their feathers too metallic.

The baby raven lunges at me and I kick it, crushing it with my foot. Suddenly an adult raven dives at me and pecks my face, causing a gash to appear. Then another flies down, nicking my arm. I bat the next one away but it gets the same spot as the baby raven and the wound has deepened and I can almost see the bone. I kick and I thwack but still the ravens fly, swarming around me. All I can see is a flurry of claws and feathers until a raven attacks my eye and I think I can see it go off with it with the other, causing me to move a hand to protect it, only for that to be bitten too my razor sharp teeth which don't belong in a raven's mouth. It feels like my whole body is on fire, every cut deepened by the next. They are almost scratching away at me, pinching my flesh and causing spasms of pain to reach up my body, hundreds and hundreds, thousands and thousands, millions and millions every minute. My flesh is screaming, getting wrenched away. I kick and I bite but I just get scratched and pecked and clawed and nibbled at even more. I finally let out a long, piercing scream that will be heard of by no-one because I am alone in the desert and collapse to the floor in a ball, feeling my throat constantly letting out an inhuman screech and the pain envelope my body.

I get it, this is the Gamemaker's revenge for cheating, for defying them. I couldn't have won after that, it's like the Mockingjay and the berries, I could never defy the Capitol and get away with it, and now is time for revenge to be played. My very essence of living is now one of pain, a flurry of roaring cuts and screeching nicks. Soon all I do is scream and scream and scream until there is nothing left of me to scream with. I will be picked dry until I am a skeleton and then, only then, will the cameras stop rolling and the birds stop pecking and only then will I go back home to district nine. Only then will the revenge be restored, the revenge of the Capitol, the revenge of the ravens.

**Axel Leaf (D7)**

Another cannon. Another death. Another step closer to home. I glance at Lindsey, she looks spooked out, I can't blame her, I want to know what happened too, though I suppose I'll find out when I watch the recaps if I win the games. No, _when_ I win the games. There's no point being negative, I have a sporting chance in this too you know. We move forward, away from the Cornucopia, that's all that matters, away from the careers. We continue walking then Lindsey speaks up.

"Who do you think that was?" She asks me.

"It's getting dark, we need to find camp soon." I say, ignoring her.

"I think it was one of the ones from three or the boy from twelve." Says Lindsey.

"Look, I'd rather not talk about it!" I snap and Lindsey turns away and is quiet. We trudge along for a few minutes and then I finally speak up.

"Look I'm sorry I snapped at you, but I'm quite scared actually." I admit. Lindsey smiles.

"So am I." She says. I'm just about to say something else when Lindsey interrupts.

"Look! Water!" She says and points to a large body of water not quite a lake. I smile happily and we both stride up to it, pushing through the brambles. We reach the lake and bend down, just about to fill our canteens, resisting the urge just to lap it up, when I feel something against my back. Lindsey does too.

"Axel..." she mutters.

"I know." I say, "I know."

**Arcturus "Arc" Starre**

Fenora can be so bossy sometimes, she thinks she's always right and won't take no for an answer, her mysterious and evasive thing has just gone flying straight out of the window, she's just so annoying sometimes I can't believe her.

This time she told me I had to make the fire away from the camp so not to attract attention to ourselves. Ok, fair enough, away, but a ten miles away? Now it's either me or that's just paranoid and I know for a fact it isn't me. I finally reach back to the camp and am about to go in when I feel a cold hand grasp around me mouth and I'm tugged back. My attacker releases me and I swing around with the sharpened stick just for Fenora to duck. She rolls her eyes again, a bad habit she seems to have been doing again and again recently.

"There are tributes here!" She hisses and I look at her, seeing if she's lying or not but the truth shines in her eyes. I glance and then I see them, emerging out of the bushes only a few metres away from us and creeping down to the water. It's the boy and girl from seven, another pair of tributes who made an alliance. Without having to look at each other Fenora and I creep down beside the water's edge. They're filling their canteens and one of them has a pack of crackers. They're both armed, the boy has an axe and the girl has a spear, but they're not drawn, I glance at Fenora and she nods. Simultaneously we both place our weapons at their backs. They both go rigid and tense and I can feel the boy panicking through the sharpened stick. I could probably kill him if I tried now.

"Axel..." The girl mutters to him.

"I know, I know." Says the boy, Axel.

"Put your weapons on the ground, any funny business-" Fenora starts.

"Such as tossing them in the lake," I not very helpfully add.

"And we will not hesitate to kill you."

"How do we know you won't do that anyway?" Asks Axel.

"You're just going to have to trust us." Fenora says.

"That's just great." The girl, Lindsey mutters. I feel a twang of sympathy, I really know how she feels.

They place their weapons on the ground and then hold their hands up where we can see them.

"What now?" I hiss to Fenora.

"I don't know! You come up with something for once!" She growls back angrily. She really has shown her mean streak since I allied with her.

"Why don't we ally with them?" I ask, the words coming out of my mouth as soon as I think of them.

"Hunger yeah, I'll do that!" calls Axel, speaking over Fenora's no doubt snide remark, she opens her mouth to say something again but this time Lindsey interrupts.

"I'll go for that option too – much better than killing us!" she says and gives a panicked look over to me.

"What do you say?" I ask Fenora who is standing, stunned. She freezes then shrugs.

"On one condition." Says Fenora and I can feel Axel tense again but she looks at me, the condition is for me, "You come up with a good name for our alliance."

"A name?" asks Axel, surprised.

"Stop chipping in!" yaps Fenora at him and he stays silent.

"What about... the rival alliance?" I ask and there is a pause then Fenora nods so we release the two of them and Axel and Lindsey slowly stumble up and we stand in a circle, the four of us, the rival alliance.

**Yay – end of chapter! Sorry that Mitchel, Willow and Nate have been neglected along with the careers but I was thinking about calling the next chapter 'career's conference'. What do you think?**

**Sorry to the creator of Lusa for killing her off, but how could I miss an opportunity like that? She had started to grow on me though, I quite liked her. =( Oh yes, keep reading though, don't let that death deter you!**

**The rival alliance! Are they your tributes? Ah well, anyway, I'm going to slow down the death rate, give a bit less deaths and a bit more drama so that means more arguing, mutts, romance and maybe even a sponsor gift – you never know!**

District One – Luxury Goods

BOY Tournaline "Tour" Solier X _(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Destiny Bond **_(Sale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Two – Weapons, Peacekeepers +Architecture

**BOY Shale Overheart **_(Destiny Bond, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

**GIRL Twira Hearthright **_(Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Lainey Rain, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Three - Electronics

**BOY Cole Dallan**_ (Quazza Willowwhisper, Braxlin Coal)_

**GIRL Quazza Willowwhisper**_ (Cole Dallan, Braxlin Coal)_

District Four - Fishing

**BOY Roderick "Rod" Giffords**_ (Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Lainey Rain)_

**GIRL Lainey Rain**_ (Destiny Bond, Shale Overheart, Twira Hearthright, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Five - Science

**BOY Arcturus "Arc" Starre** (_Fenora Kensington)_

**GIRL Fenora Kensington **_(Arcturus "Arc" Starre)_

District Six - Medicine

BOY Brink Freeman X (_Thistle Clay_)

GIRL Reena Woodson X _(Lusa Canvis)_

District Seven - Lumber

**BOY Axel Leaf**_ (Lindsey Gray)_

**GIRL Lindsey Gray**_ (Axel Leaf)_

District Eight - Textiles

BOY Robert Tars X (Tournaline "Tour" Solier)

GIRL Tessinal "Tess" Carter X (_Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Nine – Food Processing

BOY Dallas Starconn_X (Twira Hearthright)_

GIRL Lusa Canvis X _(Mutts_)

District Ten - Livestock

**BOY Mitchel Rye **_(Willow Grams, Nate Morgue)_

**GIRL Willow Grams**_ (Mitchel Rye, Nate Morgue)_

District Eleven - Agriculture

**BOY Nate Morgue **_(Willow Grams, Mitchel Rye)_

**GIRL Thistle Clay**

District Twelve – Coal Mining

BOY Braxlin Coal_ X (Lainey Rain)_

GIRL Match Lyte X (_Twira Hearthright_)

**So don't forget to review! =D Oh, and can you say who your tribute/s are/were please? The tribute's name and their district should do, I'm just trying to tally it up so the final 8 isn't all one person's tributes or something or I kill off all of 1 person's tributes at the beginning because that wouldn't be fair! Thanks!**


	34. Career's Conference

_**D**__AY __**T**__WO_

**Nate Morgue (D11)**

The faces appear in the sky. First of all comes Tess, the girl from eight. I wonder what happened to her, she seemed so nice, but the next one is an even worse jolt. The tiny twelve year-old, Lusa. What kind of psychopathic tribute killed her? She was so sweet and innocent, I have no idea what happened, all I know is it better stay that way or the tribute might end up on the wrong side of me. What about my district partner? It's a fifty percent chance she's dead now. That's not good, I was starting to enjoy Ree's company. She seemed actually quite nice, not another innocent life slaughtered needlessly. I just hope it isn't her, if I don't win I want her to now because my family and friends will be showered with gifts. Then the boy from twelve pops up. I stare at him for a second and then the logo replaces his face. Ree's still alive, Tess, Lusa and the boy from twelve are dead all in one day. I wonder if the careers got them all or if it was someone or something else. The thought sends shivers down my spine and I look at Willow and Mitchel as they stare at the sky. I notice Willow is crying, as does Mitchel.

"Are you alright?" We ask at the same time and then glare at each other. That creep is really annoying, it's only for Willow's sake I'm putting up with him, she seems to think he's a worthy ally. The stare into the distance and let Mitchel look after Willow, that's what she wants. But instead a few minutes later she calls my name.

"Nate, can you come here Nate?"

I edge by her and look around. "Where's Mitchel?" I ask her and she looks down guiltily.

"I sent him away." She says guiltily like a naughty puppy.

"Why?" I ask her and she looks up at me, her eyes huge and melting. I suddenly get a wobbling feeling in my stomach, the kind I get before I'm sick. Before I can do anything Willow had grabbed my head and has her lips pressed to mine, entangled in an embrace. My hands flail around again. I shove Willow off me.

"No, no, I've got a girlfriend," I protest.

"You said you didn't KNOW!" Replies Willow and she leans in again. I struggle, I don't want to hurt her and yes, I am attracted to her a bit, well, quite a lot really, but I have Bella back home. I try to prise her off me but she's just not budging.

"Willow!" I grunt but she grips my long hair and ropes her hand around my back, kissing me full on. I can't breathe clearly and I just don't understand, now how am I going to look Bella in the eye if I get back again?

**Mitchel Rye (D10)**

I skulk into the woods. What does Willow mean 'go and look out for some tributes', that's just ridiculous, why doesn't she send Nate instead? Nate and I are both fourteen and Willow's sixteen but that isn't stopping me from liking her. Who wouldn't really, she's funny, cute and independent as well as hot and pretty clever actually. Willow comes from my district as well, whereas Nate is a district eleven. I try to banish her from my thoughts but it's not working, what a place to fall in love, the arena, at least I _think _it's love, since I've never experienced it I wouldn't understand but I can pretty much say that I am sure that is what it is. You know what, I'm going to go and tell Willow how I feel about her, there's no point hiding it.

I stomp back towards the camp and am about to burst through when I see a horrific sight. Nate is kissing Willow – my Willow! I feel anger boil up inside me, only Nate and Willow have knives but see one lying around. Nate has one tucked into his belt but Willow has just left hers lying around. I slowly creep forward and pick it up, Nate will pay dearly for this, forcing himself on my Willow!

I charge forward and stick the knife in Nate's shoulder. Willow screams though, instead of Nate anf jumps up at me, scratching and kicking. Nate is staring blankly at the knife embedded in his shoulder and Willow is on me, trying to hurt me. My Willow, trying to hurt me? What has Nate done to her? I push her aside and charge at him again but Nate is up this time. He throws a dagger at me and I duck, it flies into the trunk of a tree, narrowly missing Willow.

I lunge on Nate, grappling him to the ground. I try to get my hands around his neck but he's too fast for me and knees me in the lungs, winding me. He rolls over so he's on top of me and throws a punch at my face, making my nose smash to one side and I scream in agony. My nose is sticking out at an odd angle and I can see most of it through my left eye and it has completely disappeared from my right eye's vision.

Nate raises his fist to punch again but Willow grabs it. Dear old Willow, loyal to me as ever. I smile happily at her and Willow tugs a struggling Nate off me. I smile happily and go up to Willow and plant a kiss on her cheek.

"I know you'd choose me." I say but I am greeted by a sharp slap on the cheek from her. My face stings and I look at her, wounded.

"You're lucky I saved your bacon!" She hisses at me and her face has returned to its usual complexion from its ghostly white look before. I turn to Nate who she is still restraining.

"You force yourself on her again and I will kill you!" I hiss angrily at him, the look he is giving me is livid.

Nate doesn't reply and Willow looks at me distastefully, though obviously that's all for the cameras, the look is obviously one of longing.

"You should gather some berries now Mitchel. I will tend to Nate's wound." Willow says firmly and I open my mouth to protest but she glares at me and I go off, leaving Willow to help Nate.

**Twira Hearthright (D2)**

Ever since I entered these games I've known the lot of careers we had was bad, but not this bad.

"How many?" I screech at them, their faces dipped low.

"One? One out of three, and not even a half decent one either? You got the runt from district twelve. I just can't believe how useless you are!" I screech, "Do you know that it means that the girl from nine died at another tribute's hands because of you, you imbeciles!"

They hang their heads but Lainey pipes up. "So you only got the nerd kid from eight then?" She asks, "Well you were so much better than us then!"

I stomp so close to her I'm almost breathing in her face. "I don't respond well to sarcasm!" I hiss angrily and she mutters a quick apology.

"Rod and I killed all the tributes we found, a hundred percent, you three, yes, there's one more of you, you only killed a third of all the tributes you found, A THIRD!" I yell at them.

We all got back to the Cornucopia an hour ago and I have decided to debrief them before we go to sleep. "What I have heard has appalled and disgusted me, I wouldn't be surprised if a non career tribute won this one, I wouldn't be surprised if I wasn't here!" I yell angrily, how much do they think they can get away with? I survey their faces, Rod is standing firmly behind me, if all of the tributes were like him then I wouldn't complain. Then there's Destiny, she's acceptable, she didn't get her tribute which I am surprised at but I guess she was just unlucky. Then my eyes fall on Lainey and Shale.

"Lainey and Shale will take watch ALL night alternately and if one of them so much as closes their eyes on their half I will personally decapitate them very slowly!" I yell, Lainey opens her mouth to protest but Shale nudges her and she keeps silent, good, at least they could work out that bit themselves.

I glower at both of them and then go off into my tent. Only one of us has our own tent and that's me obviously. My brother warned me that it would be hard but he didn't put leading morons in the job description. What do they think they're doing? I sigh and clasp my head in my hands, Scythe and my mother will be watching me, I have to stay strong. I fiddle with a small knife I keep in my boots and trace it around the outline of the tent, being careful not to cut anything. I sigh as I let my stress pour through the knife and out into the tent surrounding me. It's a form of meditation my brother and I developed, you get a knife and pour your emotions into an object, banishing them from your body. I grit my teeth and do it again. There, I feel about as relaxed as you can be when someone could try to kill you at any moment.

I roll my eyes around their sockets, weird but it works. Then I sink into the sleeping bag and pull my arms tight around my chest, as if to protect myself from the world outside. In a split second decision I push my knife back into my boot and position my hand right next to it so I can draw it in a few moments, just in case.

**OK - No-one died in this chapter! Whoop whoop! So I don't need to put the tribute list up! =D PLEASE review, especially if your character is Willow, Twira, Mitchel or Nate! =D**

**WE HAVE OVER 200 REVIEWS! YAY! LETS SEE IF WE CAN GET 250 NEXT!**


	35. Maybe

_**D**__AY __**T**__HREE_

**Lainey Rain (D4)**

I rub my eyes, I'm so tired it's just ridiculous, but I can't fall asleep, I really don't know if Twira was being serious when she said she'd decapitate us, but I'm not waiting to find out. It's second watch so I have had some sleep but not nearly enough, anyway, who would come into our career camp? I sigh and look again at the arena around me. In front of me is some levelled shrubbery getting taller and taller until finally it reaches out into a forest. The forest seems to grip around to the right too, where everything seems a bit wetter. But nothing is near wet in the left of me, a fiery desert with burning sands in the day and an icy grip in the night. No-one would go through there in their right mind if it wasn't for the crevasse splitting us off from the almost heavenly hill with a plateau top, full of life and promises for a good stay. I look at the silver loop of water, thin like thread, that is circling the Cornucopia. It keeps on moving around in circles yet it has nowhere to flow to, Gamemaker tricks so that we can't tell if there is a downhill or not no doubt, though I can't see what careers would want with that information, unless...

They're going to drain the water! I yelp and glance around hurriedly, it's not happening yet but it will happen and we have to move on to a more steady supply. But where? Where is downhill? I look around and see the slightly wetter place, a forest still but not a swamp. I smile cheekily, that's where it is, that's where I will find water! I have to go and warn the others – then we'll be able to leave. But a thought hits me, Twira won't trust me, she won't believe it and she definitely won't leave. Well she can die of thirst; I'm going to leave myself! I rush into my tent and creep past Shale. I slowly start packing up some things. I need bandages, an extra flask of water, make that two, four knives, a small dagger and I better pack a sword. Then I need a sleeping bag, a blanket, two packs of crackers, a loaf of bread, some dried fruit, a first aid kit, shove the bandages in there, oh and I should have some dried meat as well.

Looking at all the supplies I've packed it looks like it's going to be a hard time travelling, especially with the portable water purifying system and the pot I packed. I sigh, I really need all this stuff, but I can't carry it on my own. I close my eyes impatiently and then hear a rustling come from Shale. I freeze and then hide the backpack behind my back. He opens his dreary eyes and then sees me, he jumps back.

"What are you doing?" He hisses and then sees the pack and provisions hastily stuffed in it. He leaps up and I flinch, now for my death.

"I'm going too." He says and I eye him.

"What?" I say, "No, no, stay here."

Shale grabs another pack and transfers some of my things into it and then stuffs in some more food and water. "I'm going too." He repeats firmly and I sigh, it's not such a bad thing to have an ally and Shale seems to hate this as much as I do.

"Fine," I say, "Let's go."

We dash out of the camp and run into the cover of the trees, making our way to a place we will find steady water and a safe place where we don't have to kill and slaughter and pretend we enjoy it, where we can be ourselves.

**Thistle Clay (D11)**

I squint at the early morning light through the tree I am perched on. It really hurts my eyes, I groan and am feeling perfectly normal, well as normal as you can be in the middle of the hunger games, when I remember the bloodbath and my arrow flying through the air and ripping a hole in that poor boy's chest. Then I see myself gaping and shocked as I run and prise a loaf of bread out of his dead hands. I shiver, I'm even scaring myself. I slip slowly down from the tree and crouch down beside the small puddle of water I have found. It's all rain water so is perfectly fine to drink; I know this because I've tested it. I grimace and scoop up some water with my hands and then pour it into my mouth, now to see if I've caught any breakfast. I've made a few basic traps with the items I could find, small pits covered with leaves, that sort of thing. They're mainly improvised though really to tell the truth. I smile awkwardly as I find all I've managed to catch is a large snail and go off to gather some berries. Then I remember something I heard once, I heard that an ancient civilisation used to eat snails. I look at the snail, so huge it's about the size of my fist screwed up. I wince, it probably isn't a good idea to eat it, but then again, when have I ever had a good idea?

I start a tiny fire, so small the smoke couldn't be seen even a few metres away and pick up the snail from its shell. I try not to squirm as I poke a sharp stick through the living snail so it's suspended and slowly turn it over the fire. I don't know if snails scream and I don't want to so I hook the stick onto two others to keep it balanced up in the air and go off to gather berries, using the small piece of cloth that was attached separately to our outfit to collect them in. I only get things I know are safe to eat, dandelions, blackberries, roots, that kind of thing. I specially avoid a potato I see when I remember someone telling me that potatoes are actually poisonous when not cooked properly and I don't want to risk that eventuality.

I bring back my provisions to the base of my tree and add them to the pile; it's just going to have to work. I shuffle awkwardly on my feet and glance at my food and then lap up some more water, this time acting like a dog, not even bothering to scoop it up in my hands. The cool, refreshing liquid soothes my throat and I look around me, the sun has risen and now it's the morning, soon other tributes will be up and about, scavenging and getting ready for a day, trying to prevent their deaths. I just really hope I don't encounter anyone or I'll surely be wounded, but you never know, with my bow and arrows it might be the other person who gets wounded, it might just be the other person that dies and I might become a murderer once again, I might kill for a second time.

**Quazza Willowwhisper (D3)**

I leap down from the tree I slept in overnight and rub the sleep out of my eyes, argh I feel cranky. I could kill any tribute that came my way, well, if I had a weapon. All I have is the spare water container, Cole has the water container. Cole, when I found out he didn't die I was overjoyed but still, maybe it would have been best. Now it means I might have to kill him. I struggle with the thought and stretch, and then I see a squirrel dart across the ground. I could have caught that! But then I see another follow that exact route and I dive at it, catching it. I snap its neck and hold it up, breakfast. I set off to gather some firewood and then decide against it, I've already had one close encounter. I examine the squirrel for a second and then bend down on the floor looking for something to cut it with, there, a sharp looking flint. It feels like I'm going back to the stone age but I don't complain, I would but there's no-one to complain to. I sigh and get the flint and use it to rip open the dead squirrel.

I try to ignore the guts squirming around inside it and the muscle reflexes inside it as the squirrel twitches. The gut as warm and sticky to my hand but I can't think about that now, I have to sort through what is edible and what isn't. I shuffle through the squirrel awkwardly and pile it into two heaps, one of which I will eat and the other I will throw away so not to attract wild animals. Everything now is really the hunger games, I haven't eaten for a da

I try to ignore the guts squirming around inside it and the muscle reflexes inside it as the squirrel twitches. The gut as warm and sticky to my hand but I can't think about that now, I have to sort through what is edible and what isn't. I shuffle through the squirrel awkwardly and pile it into two heaps, one of which I will eat and the other I will throw away so not to attract wild animals. Everything now is really the hunger games, I haven't eaten for a day or so and I'm hungry. I pause and then stuff the raw squirrel in my mouth. My taste buds recoil in disgust but I chew until I've eaten half of it, I'll keep the other half for later. I stand up and examine the berries in the bushes and squash one underfoot, poisonous, I should have known as much. I sigh and wrap the squirrel up in the spare piece of cloth we were given and tie it to my belt so that it won't prove a distraction. I look at the bushes again and then they start to rustle and Cole steps out of it. I jump.

"Don't do that!" I yelp at him, then check what his status is, "are you ok Cole?"

"I'm fine, you?"

I nod, "You saw Braxlin's face?" I ask and he nods, "I guess it was to be suspected, not all of us could get away from the careers."

"I agree, though that doesn't stop me wishing he was still alive." Mutters Cole.

"So do I Cole, so do I."

"So what now?"

"I have no idea whatsoever, you should think of something."

"We should find food, water and a shelter."

"We have that." I say and point to my spare water container, the half of the squirrel and his tarpaulin.

"Maybe we should look for something more permanent."

"Maybe."

"Maybe."

**I just realized that we haven't seen Thistle since the bloodbath so I thought I'd stick her in here. So now Cole and Quazza are back together, Shale and Lainey have run off and we know Thistle's fine.**

District One – Luxury Goods

BOY Tournaline "Tour" Solier X _(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Destiny Bond **_(Twira Hearthright, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Two – Weapons, Peacekeepers +Architecture

**BOY Shale Overheart **_(Lainey Rain)_

**GIRL Twira Hearthright **_(Destiny Bond, Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Three - Electronics

**BOY Cole Dallan**_ (Quazza Willowwhisper)_

**GIRL Quazza Willowwhisper**_ (Cole Dallan)_

District Four - Fishing

**BOY Roderick "Rod" Giffords**_ (Destiny Bond, Twira Hearthright)_

**GIRL Lainey Rain**_ (Shale Overheart)_

District Five - Science

**BOY Arcturus "Arc" Starre** (_Fenora Kensington, Axel Leaf, Lindsey Grey)_

**GIRL Fenora Kensington **_(Arcturus "Arc" Starre, Axel Leaf, Lindsey Grey)_

District Six - Medicine

BOY Brink Freeman X (_Thistle Clay_)

GIRL Reena Woodson X _(Lusa Canvis)_

District Seven - Lumber

**BOY Axel Leaf**_ (Lindsey Gray, Fenora Kensington, Arcturs "Arc" Starre)_

**GIRL Lindsey Gray**_ (Axel Leaf, Febora Kensington, Arcturus "Arc Starre)_

District Eight - Textiles

BOY Robert Tars X (_Tournaline "Tour" Solier_)

GIRL Tessinal "Tess" Carter X (_Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Nine – Food Processing

BOY Dallas Starconn_X (Twira Hearthright)_

GIRL Lusa Canvis X _(Mutts_)

District Ten - Livestock

**BOY Mitchel Rye **_(Willow Grams, Nate Morgue)_

**GIRL Willow Grams**_ (Mitchel Rye, Nate Morgue)_

District Eleven - Agriculture

**BOY Nate Morgue **_(Willow Grams, Mitchel Rye)_

**GIRL Thistle Clay**

District Twelve – Coal Mining

BOY Braxlin Coal_ X (Lainey Rain)_

GIRL Match Lyte X (_Twira Hearthright_)

**I've updated the list! PLEASE review and say what you think about all this!**


	36. Shut up

_**D**__AY __**T**__HREE_

**Lindsey Grey (D7)**

I shake Axel awake.

"Axel! Axel! Wake up!" I call and he slowly groans and turns over, then jerks up, an axe in his hand.

"Die!" He yells and tries to shove the axe into my chest but I dive out of the way just in time.

"It's me Axel, it's Lindsey." I say and he looks at me, worried then shakes his head.

"Of course, I'm sorry." He mutters an apology and sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "Why were you waking me then?" He asks and it's my time to mutter an apology

"I'm sorry, it's just it's almost brunch and everyone else is up," I signal to Fenora and Arc who are bickering like usual, mainly Fenora doing the bickering. They are both tucking into a stew of some sort consisting of wild roots and berries and some sort of fish. Axel groans and gets to his feet, swaying slightly.

"Of course, no need to apologise. I'll have brunch then." Murmurs Axel and he sways over to the log and sits down.

"Are you sure you can eat bark?" Arc asks again and Fenora rolls her eyes.

"Of course you can eat bark! Don't you know anything?"

"I know about stars." Huffs Arc.

"Hmm, and that is really going to help you in an arena in the middle of the day!"

"It's not my fault that-"

"Hey guys." I interrupt and they both whip their heads around and when they see it's me they lower their weapons.

"Can't have too many precautions." Notes Fenora, the closest she gets to an apology.

"Yes you can! You made me try all the types of berries before you ate them, me! What if they were poisoned?" Argues Arc and Fenora motions for him to be quiet.

"Anyway, had a nice sleep Axel?" She asks and Axel blushes guiltily.

"Sorry." He murmurs, "I was tired."

"It's perfectly alright Axel; you need to be ready for the day, so you should have as much sleep as you need."

"That's not what you said to me when you woke me up before dawn!" Chips in Arc and Fenora rolls her eyes again.

"Shut up! Don't you have something to do star-eyes?" She snaps and Arc grimaces and goes off to the pool to try and catch some fish. I smile happily, the rival alliance is absolutely hilarious sometimes, though I have to remind myself repetitively that we're not here to have fun, we're here to kill each other.

**Roderick "Rod" Giffords (D4)**

I jerk awake, sweaty palms and a worried face; I had the nightmare again, about the district seven girl and Current, my brother. I'm sharing a tent with Destiny so she gives me a weird look and goes back to plaiting her waist long blonde hair. It must be late morning by the placement the sun is in the sky, but I guess we all deserve a lie-in. I suppose Lainey and Shale won't be too happy but that's their problem isn't it? I noticed as soon as I saw her that you don't want to get on the wrong side on Twira Hearthright, self appointed leader of the careers.

"What's the time?" I ask Destiny but she just shrugs and continues plaiting her hair. I clench my eyes shut and stretch out so my arms are brushing the sides of the tent and then leap up.

"I'm going to see what's happening." I say.

"Your death." Murmurs Destiny and I look at her quizzically.

"Nothing happens at this point in the games, the tributes leave us be in hope that we would leave them be." She explains and continues plaiting her hair.

I nod and unzip the tent, I need some fresh air anyway, it's just too stuffy in here. As soon as I get out I notice something is wrong. The fire is long dead and there is no sign of anyone on watch. I freeze and then look inside Lainey and Shale's tent. Gone, they've gone. The gravity of what's happened hits me full on and sends me reeling. I have to grasp hold of something to keep myself steady and I find it's the fire. I yelp in surprise and tug my hand back but no burns come, it's stone cold. They'll be long gone by now. I rush back into the tent.

"You were saying nothing happens?" I yelp and Destiny leaps to her feet from a sitting down position, suddenly alert.

"What is it?" She asks and I point outside. She follows my gaze and sees the dead fire and the empty tent and pieces together what has happened.

"Oh no." She says and I look at her.

"Oh no indeed Destiny, what's Twira going to say when she finds out."

"What am I going to say when I find out what?" Twirs barks, stepping out of her tent, Destiny and I glance at each other awkwardly.

"Well, the thing is..." I start.

"Lainey and Shale have gone." Destiny says simply and Twira freezes.

"Is this a joke, because I don't respond well to practical jokes Destiny?" She asks and we both hang our heads low.

"It's no joke, maybe if we had-" I start.

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Twira screams and places her hands on her temples and massages them. Then she slowly smiles, her mood swinging into calm, "Let them go, there's nothing we can do about it. But without the protection of a tent they'll be ripped to pieces in seconds. This is but a minor setback, it might even be turned to our advantage. Now don't you have something to do?" She barks and Destiny and I rush off to go and do something, anything, just to get away from Twira. One career dead, two left and three remaining, maybe a tribute from another district will win after all.

**Willow Grams (D10)**

I don't know what to think any more. Mitchel seems obsessive about me which is quite gross since he's two years younger than me, but then again so is Nate. I don't know what to think about Nate, he likes me, I can tell that, but this girl, Bella, that he keeps going on about, she's stopping him from responding. What a place to fall for a boy. I know it can't last but still, it would be fun just for a while if Nate played along. I place my head in my hands, Mitchel has suddenly turned sour, when he was perfectly nice before. Nate's turned something in him and I honestly don't know what to think. When they both were rolling around on the floor trying to kill each other all over me I realized the effect I have had on them, even if I wouldn't risk my life for them.

I just wish Nate would go along with it, I don't know if he's guessed that it's a bit of a publicity stunt, well, it started off that way, but now I've started to have feelings for him, real feelings, not the ones you pipe up when you go out with a boy at school. No, with me and my friends boyfriends are like accessories, they just are items that you have, there is no real feeling behind them, well, none that is as strong as I feel about Nate. But why? He's not as good looking as the pick of boys I've had or as good a kisser. I giggle when I think of Nate's face when I kissed him, I would pay to see that again. But I guess I will have to if I win, along with Nate's death and Mitchel's death and every other tribute's deaths. I'll have to see every one of them.

I screw up my eyes and breathe in and out, in and out. I open them and look around me. We moved on from that place after the argument and found here, wherever here is. All I know is that there is a small pond and a field of some sort of reddish root vegetable that Nate claims is called a radish. Being from district eleven he knows about all those sorts of things so I trust him, even if Mitchel doesn't. I always see him swapping food with Nate's or his hand fly to a pointy stick he found as if Nate would harm him. Mind you, his nose isn't a pretty sight. It looks like he got run over by one of those vehicles in the Capitol, cars, yes, it looks like he got run over by a car.

He is forever whinging about it but I think Nate has more reason to whine. I had a look at his arm and although I'm no healer I can tell that it's going to hurt a lot. I took out the knife and chewed some sort of leaf according to Nate's instructions and pasted it on the wound. He said the saliva would help as much as the leaf so I suggested I kiss it better, that might have been a bit of a mistake. Nate then told me to shut up.

**I've called this chapter 'shut up' because I found that everyone is telling everyone else to shut up, that and there's no real action here. This day is going to be a bit of a lazy day I think, and I also think that three chapters making up a day is suitable; one for the very early to the morning, one for the late morning and afternoon and one for the evening and night. This is the one for the late morning and afternoon, but in case you didn't know. If your tribute is still alive and hasn't had a POV from them then can you tell me and I'll do them, or if you see any tribute which is like that! No alliances were formed or split and no-one died in this chapter, in fact it was quite a bit of a lazy chapter really. But this is going to be a lazy day, I'm going to cut down on the action because I don't want to finish the games too quickly. This is the eighth chapter in the games though and there are the dead – Tour Solier, Brink Freeman, Reena Woodson, Robert Tars, Tess Carter, Dallas Starconn, Lusa Canvis (I'm starting to regret that one, people say they were enjoying her – that's why you review and tell me people, otherwise she wouldn't have died so quickly), Braxlin Coal and Match Lyte. That's nine down and fifteen to go, seven more dead and we're in the final eight where my decision are completely random and unplanned.**

**I've had a few of you ask about the final eight but I cannot divulge that information, aka. Tough luck, you'll have to wait and see. It's because the final eight is constantly changing so if I told you and you though your character was in the final eight and suddenly they die in the next chapter you'd be a bit miffed, and anyway, putting it out there makes it official! So far with five votes Destiny Bond is the favourite tribute, with Twira Hearthright nipping her on the heels with four and many more behind that with three and two. So read and review and read my other fic too, in fact I'll give you a little extract from Gnawing Hunger to see if you change your mind:**

_This time there's just Martha-Rose, smiling and giggling as she grows up. It would have been a happy dream if it wasn't tinted by what I'd done to her. She's having a picnic with her family. They're giggling and messing around, and then it's a surprise birthday party for her, she's ecstatic at the news. Then she is with her friends, talking and joking, true friendship. But next is the most terrifying of all. Next she is sitting down on a bench with a plain looking boy, but she doesn't seem to think so. The sun is setting and they are holding hands. Suddenly the boy leans in to kiss her, but just a millimetre away from her lips the dream flashes so all I see is her lying on her back in a pool of her own blood, back broken in several places and limbs twisted around. But what really scares me is that she's smiling, she's grinning and her pearly white teeth gleam in the darkness. _

I wake up, gasping for breath and I want someone, anyone to wrap and arm around me and tell me that it's alright, that it's just a dream; that those things never happened. But no-one comes and I am left lying in a tree feeling an emotion which I never thought I would feel in my life, let alone in the arena. Loneliness.

I miss people, I want to be with someone, anyone. I just want a warm hug and a coaxing smile. I want a reassuring squeeze of my hand or a helpful pat on the back. But the only people I can see are the dead haunting my memory. Vivian's family, my mother, and of course, the tributes I've killed.

I never thought I would be lonely since I've spent my whole life hunting for solitude, trying to ward off my so-called friends. But now I've got it I want someone to be here, with me, while I struggle through the games. Truth be told, I miss Dral. Badly.

I snap out of my thoughts by biting my lip, the head shaking isn't working for me. I gaze up in the sky, past all the leaves in the trees to see the stars winking at me. But I can't see, something is blocking my way. I stand up and bat it out of my way, making it shake. But then, all too late I realize what it was that I have just hit.

A trackerjacker nest.

**If you want to see an action scene or a bit of a romance or a funny one tell me, out of the 41 chapters which are up there at the moment it's just about half way so I wanted to just give you a taster. Please read it, it gets a bit better, I don't like the beginning of it but I can't be bothered to change it. I haven't finished it yet but I'm well on my way to it so try and be happy! I selected this because I didn't want to give too much away, you see? My favourite scenes are the chapters 30 and 36, Icicles and Back to the Cornucopia, but they are plot turners. If you don't want to read something so long read The realisation of Hunger, which are quick one-shots from Gnawing Hunger through different character's eyes. PLEASE read Gnawing Hunger or The Realisation of Hunger though because they mean a lot to me and I want to share them. If you've read up to here you evidently like my writing so why don't you read some more? And there are no mottled mushrooms in that story, but neither is there swearing so no worries, just go and read it (after you've reviewed this obviously)!**


	37. Boredom

**Games (9) A/N**

**First of all I apologise to all who have read my stories and seen a HIDEOUS amount of spelling and other such mistakes, the reason is quite simple – I don't have a beta reader. For all those who don't know, a beta reader is someone who basically reads through your stuff and checks your mistakes, then makes suggestions to improve it as well. Why don't I have a beta reader? Well, here are the main three reasons:**

**1. Have you seen how fast I update? A beta reader would slow that all down, and then they'd have their hands full as well, but mainly because they wouldn't be on and then it would be a slow and painful process, I just like to post, post, post and I doubt there's any beta reader out there who is on here as much as I have been recently.**

**2. I have a **_**thing **_**about people saying to me 'improve this, do this', I hate people trying to change **_**my **_**things, I feel this is something I do and it's just a little me thing. I'd call it protective, you'd call it paranoia. You see, I like it how it is and I would HATE, HATE, HATE **_**anyone **_**telling me how to improve it, I do that enough to myself and I don't want any more grief then I already have and I'd just pass it onto my beta because they would think I'm just weird and probably hate me for the rest of my life and theirs. So they wouldn't like working with me AND I don't think I'd really like working with them, I'd probably reject some of their ideas for improvement and I know how down-heartening it can be for someone to say you or your ideas are not good enough, I've had that done to me several times.**

**3. My stories are random, well, more than random actually, and aren't to some people's tastes. I really don't think that there would be anyone out there **_**insane**_** enough to become my beta reader.**

**So I finish – those are the reasons why I do things the old fashioned way, by myself. You may call me weird, but so do my friends. You may call me a freak but so do my enemies, you may call me insane but so does absolutely everyone I meet so really, don't bother. Just get on and read! Oh – and if either you are or you know someone who would actually consider beta reading me then give me a shout and I MIGHT consider it. Also tell me if you think I need a beta because if you all really think my punctuation and grammar and stuff's that bad then I'll take it up, but it's virtually all you think I need a beta because if you all really think my punctuation and grammar and stuff's that bad then I'll take it up, but it's virtually all typos so no worries, I really don't think I need one!**

**I previously apologise to the creator of the dead tribute in this chapter but I got bored, REALLY bored, and my bloodthirsty sense took over me, I wasn't going to kill anyone today and **_**technically **_**I haven't because they die after the anthem in the sky. Sorry though, but I didn't feel the character really, and twenty-three of them have to die! This makes ten dead in the first three days, not bad I have to say, I thought I was going to kill a lot more! It looks like, at the rate of it, these games are going to last about a week! Next chapter **_**should **_**contain a death and be in the three viewpoints of three different people in one alliance. =D (So that means it's either the careers, the love struck alliance (awesome name, huh?) or the rival alliance)... just thought I'd do the maths for you, so if your tribute is in there I'd start hoping that it isn't them that's going to die!**

**Oh, and when I was at the beginning and I said I only wanted one romance, well tough luck, I'm getting too carried away, you're going to have a handful here, but not all of them happy I'm afraid to say. Well I better stop writing and let you read (this A/N is a whole side of A4)!**

_**D**__AY __**T**__HREE_

**Shale Overheart (D2)**

Lainey and I have been gone from the career camp for almost a whole day and we haven't had any trouble. I'm actually quite surprised; I'd have thought Twira would want revenge against us for running away, but evidently not. She's left us be, evidently she doesn't think of us as much of a threat and I guess we aren't. Although Lainey is a career she wasn't going to volunteer this year but she did and although I may be from a career district and I may have been hanging out with the careers I am definitely not a career. I turn to Lainey who is slowly trudging across the marshy land and then I pause.

"Do you think we should go this way?" I ask, pointing left and Lainey twirls around to face me.

"Sure, why not? I have no idea where we're going so you lead the way, it's best."

I smile sheepishly and take the lead, Lainey following me from behind. I try to smile at her but I give up, it's too hard to smile in the arena where I might be just millimetres from my death. We trudge on and every now and then I glance back at Lainey, checking that she's ok. She is, of course. Why do I keep on worrying about her? It's me I should be worrying about.

Then suddenly the anthem blurts out of the speakers and I look up at the sky. Did I miss any cannons? I check, but it turns out I didn't, everyone is intact and alive, no-one died today. I just hope something interesting is happening or the Gamemakers will want to spice it up a bit, and I just don't want that to happen because I know it will end in peril or at least a very, very bad thing.

Somehow, strangely though, I feel almost bored. Bored? How can you feel bored in the hunger games? I don't know, but the excitement of the last few weeks in the games and preparing me for it has caught up with me and now I just walk, in an almost tedious manner. I used to love walking, it was a real adventure, a break out of the daily jut of my life, but now it has become so unpredictable a walk is no longer a soothing stretch of my limbs, it's a painful screech of pain convincing me to try and do something exciting. But I don't want excitement, excitement comes hand in hand with death and I definitely don't want to die.

Then I smell the burning. At first I think it's just me but then Lainye speaks up too.

"Can you smell something?" She asks and I whip my head around and see flames licking the sky from the forest. The forest is on fire! I yelp and drag Lainey back forwards, then turn back on ourselves when I see another wall of fire blocking our way. The fire has made two walls against us, stopping us from going anywhere but back, back towards the career camp. I gulp for a second and then run as fast as I can. Lainey seems to have got the idea too. We're going back from where we came from – the career camp.

**Quazza Willowwhisper (D3)**

I look at Cole, his dreamy eyes thinking of dreams and wonders no doubt. I have had enough of hiding, of pretending who I really am. I pause for a second and then look at Cole.

"Cole, I, I," I stammer and Cole looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

"What?" He says, almost fiercly, but I can't let him put me off, I have to tell him.

"Cole, I like you, well, more than like in a way, I've always liked you and I just don't know if you would consider maybe-" I freeze at the look of utter horror Cole is giving me. Well, what was I going to say anyway, I'm lost for words. What would he consider? We can't go out, we're both going to be dead in a week or so, or one of us at least.

"Quazza, look, I've always thought you were weird but not this weird, I just can't-"

I place a finger on his lips and replace it with my mouth, I've always dreamed of kissing him and even if I've just been rejected and my heart is as empty as a hollow tree trunk I still can't pass this opportunity by, wherever I might be. Cole shoves me off violently.

"What the tributes do you think you're doing!" He yells and I feel a tear trickle down my eye. Cole doesn't like me, he never has liked me. No-one ever liked me but I thought Cole was different, no, I _think _Cole is different. I still do, I look at him, trying to make my eyes melt but h

"No, I can't do this, this alliance is over!" He yells and I look at him, what does he mean over? I pale but Cole ignores me.

"Quazza, you've followed me and stressed me, you even kissed me. How do you think I feel?"

I stare at him, wide eyed. What does he mean? He can't honestly think that, I know he's a nice person inside. I reach out and touch his heart but then he slaps me hard on the cheek. I feel tears start to stream down my eyes and I do nothing as Cole punches and kicks me, beats be so I turn purple and blue all over. My body swells with cuts and bruises but I stand still, I must stay standing. I have to endure this pain. I breathe in and out, in and out. The hits keep coming and then I feel now icily cold hands belonging to one with such a warm heart press against my throat as I stay backed up to a tree, by heartbeat drumming against my ears.

"I don't want to do this Quazza, give me a reason not to do this!" He yells at me and I pale.

"Because I love you." I say with one final gulp of air before I feel my neck being constricted and while I try to breathe I can't, I just can't. My vision goes blurry and specks fly in front of my eyes. My heartbeat pumps blood to my ears and I can hear the final croak of my voice as I let out a final breath, see the mortified look on Cole's face as he realizes what he's just done and stares at his hands and I just can't help but love him still, despite the fact he is my murderer.

**Cole Dallan (D3)**

What have I just done? I am now a murderer, I am now a murderer. I stare at my hands, cold and malicious and look at Quazza's dead body. Dead? I am about to check when I hear the cannon firing in the air, ripping the time to shreds and my heart with it. I'm a murderer, I'm a murderer. I glance at my hands and then look again, murderer's hands, killer's hands. I have killed, I have killed. I let out a low, mournful screech and grab the half eaten squirrel and the water canteen from Quazza's dead body. I take a step back, snatch the tarpaulin and run, sprint towards wherever. I don't care, I just have to get away from here, but I know wherever I go she'll still be with me.

She only liked me, she only _loved_ me. There is no room for love in the arena but why did I do that? Why did I do that? I run, that's all I can think of, I bundle the supplies in my arms and I sprint as fast as I can away from here, I don't care to where, I just have to go. I almost fly through the woods and almost crash into a tribute, the girl from eleven. I consider polishing her off, I'm already a murderer, and what would one more death do? But I break rut and creep past her and go on, running away. I don't want to kill again, that girl was just placed there, taunting me.

I vividly shake my head and charge off, leaping over tangles, nets of thorns and beds of purple thistle, the silky tops promising a comfortable embrace when beneath there is a spiky lie, just like roses, the capitol and the hunger games. It seems all glitz and glamour, comfort, a fun show. But really it is murder, pure murder, and no amount of purple heads will cover that up, this is just a butchery and no matter what I think about it or what people do it will never be stopped.

Take the Mockingjay for example, she won the hunger games along with another boy thanks to a trick with the berries but the Capitol played a nasty trick on her, somehow rigged the voting to draw both her and the boy back into the quell when they both died miserable deaths at the hand of a Capitol sea serpent that rose out of the water, infuriated when they electrocuted it. How were they to know that it was in there and that it was the creature that would rear up out of the water and kill them at the mere first jolt of electricity? How were they to know?

But the Capitol either got lucky or it was rigged and I know better than to think it was rigged, the point is that the Capitol murdered her even if they got mutts or tributes to kill her, I'm just clay in their hands, modelled and shaped as they please. But I won't go with that. I'm my own person, my own heart, my own will. I may have killed Quazza but that was the Capitol, not me, it may have been my hands to conduct the ghastly deed but that's not what happened. What happened is that I died, and I died in such a way no-one noticed. I am dead, replaced by a trembling outer shell, a Capitol puppet. But no more, now I will fight back. No more will I be played with and then tossed aside when I am no longer any fun because I, Cole Dallan, am going to fight back.

**Yay! That was fun, a bit short but I'm TIRED... I would put up the tribute list but I'm too tired, I'll put it up in the next chapter. =D Sorry to the creator of Quazza and I guess I should say sorry to the creator of Cole too for having him seem like a monster, but I hope his half explains his actions and such.**


	38. Going Solo

**You know I said it would be 3 people from one alliance? Well I LIED! Mwahahaha! Actually I just changed my mind, but ah well! It's day four, yay yay yay! And I've got some action now! Oh, by the way, it's in the morning, about seven am, just letting you know! Oh, and when I said someone would die in this chapter I also lied! Double Mwahahaha! *wink wink*. I've got exams soon so I might not be able to update every day like I have been but I'm not abandoning you, my fellow hunger games fanatics, far from it, I'm keeping this up, though in exam week you'll just have to count me out I'm afraid! I'll tell you when that is! Mutt-wise, for Gnawing Hunger I've had wooden alligators and sea serpents and for the realisation of hunger I've had a fire breathing mountain goat, but now I'm running out of ideas! I'm using oxen here, yes let the foxx fly, **_**oxen**_**, so you better enjoy it, but I call on all Gamemakers to PM me ideas about mutts! I have a form for all Gamemakers and non-Gamemakers alike to fill in! Here it is:**

**MUTTS**

**Name:**

**Description:**

**Strengths:**

**Weaknesses:**

**Situation / Area:**

**Now I'll do you an example (this is a mutt from GH)-**

**MUTTS**

**Name: Wooden Alligator**

**Description: An abnormally large alligator which has an outer shell made completely out of wood, it has huge teeth and is large enough to eat tributes leaving no remains whatsoever.**

**Strengths: It is strong and impenetrable. It is also heavy therefore virtually impossible to knock over and that gives it more brute force. Also because of its outer wooden shell it appears to be a log and can be easily camouflaged.**

**Weaknesses: Since it weighs so much due to the wood it is slow and the wood is only an outer casing, its stomach is pink and raw and if stabbed there it will feel the full force of the blow. Since it is so slow it can be outrun. Also due to its size it needs to eat a lot so spends a lot of its time hunting and could be easily distracted by food, though not for long since it eats quickly.**

**Situation / Area: This alligator would be found in the swampy areas of the arena and the situation you might have when finding one would be you wouldn't see it so you may sit on it thinking it is a log or you might find it feasting on its former prey since it eats so much due to its size.**

_**D**__AY __**F**__OUR_

**Destiny Bond (D1)**

What has happened to me? What sort of creature have I been transformed into? I killed Tour, well, he deserved it, but now I'm contemplating killing Twira and Rod too. I'm turning into one of those beasts in the games, no feel for fellow humans, fellow children. I'm wondering whether I should have volunteered in the first place, maybe I should have let that other girl win the race to get to the stage. There would have been no shame in that, Lily wouldn't blame me, no-one would. Maybe I could have got a job in the training centre, a permanent one. Maybe I could have... oh, what's the point? There's no point wishing I did something else because I didn't. I did what I did and there's no changing it, no matter how much worrying I do.

I gulp and follow Rod's eyes to the mount of supplies in front of us. We have to prevent other tributes from getting it somehow, trap it. But how can we trap it successfully? Everything before has been done and is anticipated. If you leave a guard they will either end up unconscious or dead if anyone tries anything and with the amount of careers we have now that isn't an option. Mines are just a temptation for any tribute to blow everything sky high like in the seventy-fourth and the hundred-and-twenty-third. Any traditional traps such as the foot in a loop of rope or pressure sensitive darts can easily be dismantled. Once the careers even went as far as poisoning their supplies, well half of it anyway, but they seemed to have forgotten which half and died of poisoning. There is some debate over whether the stew that killed them was poisoned by them or if it was a cunning Gamemaker scheme. Either way they died and another tribute won that year.

"Why don't we not trap it?" I ask and Rod looks at me quizzically.

"What do you mean? Do you think we should leave a guard?" He asks and I shake my head.

"No, just leave it all alone. The tributes will think that since we're so relaxed over it, that we have some awesome new trap installed that none of them will be able to defeat and they will probably leave it alone." I say and Rod seems to ponder over the idea.

"We'll bring it up with Twira. Who knows, it might actually work."

I smile and Rod smiles back at me, that's as friendly as we're getting. Rod seems so steely and tough but actually he seems quite soft on the inside. I block my sweet smile though and wander back into the camp alongside Rod to inform Twira of my new idea that might just save a lot of trouble when it comes to the supplies and other tributes alike. I step forward and am about to enter the camp when I see two figures burst through the bushes frantically followed by the lick of roaring fires as the whole forest to one side is lit alight suddenly like a blazing firework. I just have enough time to grip my knife before the fire suddenly leaps into the nearest tent and I join Lainey and Shale running away from the blaze and bend down, scooping up two backpacks and a sword. If anything happens to me now I'm ready and I'm definitely not going with Twira and Rod any more, no, I'm going solo.

**Willow Grams (D10)**

I send Nate off to harvest some berries so I can see to Mitchel's broken nose. I really don't want to but he seems to have accepted that I'm not interested in him and although I want Mitchel to feel some pain for what he did and tried to do to Nate I am his ally and it's my duty as both that and a human being to help him out. I'm no monster, well, I try desperately not to be.

Nate reluctantly goes off with the three of our strips of cloth and I look at Mitchel's nose from afar. Somehow it has all been squashed to one side and it looks like he's had a boxing accident and has had his nose broken which he probably has, well, the broken nose part anyway. It looks a lot worse than I thought Nate could deliver with one punch, he seems like such a pacifist. Ah well, appearances are deceiving, especially in the games where everyone is just living one big lie. I flinch as I approach Mitchel but manage to squeeze a smile at him and approach his nose.

Really I should have re-set it straight away but I wasn't exactly thinking straight after having two boys trying to fight to the death over me. And even if I had been thinking straight I wouldn't have been able to bring myself to do it, even to Mitchel. And I doubt Nate would fix it straight after he broke it and I doubt even more that Mitchel himself would have been able to do it, re-set his own nose. I have a look at it though, I have to see if it's ok, well, as ok as a broken nose can get. I kneel down next to Mitchel and he looks up at me.

"I'm sorry." He mutters and I smile slightly but don't reply. I lean forward to look at his nose but then see something hanging around his neck, a charm of some sort. I reach forwards and touch it, my hand feeling the smooth metal. As soon as Mitchel realizes I'm interested he leans forwards so his face is almost touching mine so he can unhook it. Then he leans back and hands the charm to me.

On closer inspection it's not a charm, if it is it's a very strange one. It's a shell shaped object which has a peculiar hole in each end hooked on a chain. It has no markings or anything. I turn it over and see initials engraved on the back. I sketch them out with my hand. _AR_. I smile cheekily at him.

"Who's AR? Your girlfriend?" I tease but he just shakes his head.

"My mother, she's dead." He says bluntly and I feel my cheeks burn up.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." I stammer but he smiles weakly.

"It's fine, I never knew her, she died in childbirth having me." He explains and then turns away.

"So what does it do?" I ask, twiddling it around with my fingers, "Bring you good luck?"

"No, it's a whistle," He says and I bring the whistle to my lips, too late he calls out but I've already blown it, a sharp piercing sound barely audible squeaking through the air.

"NO!" He yells and I quickly hand it back to him.

"It's not broken, no harm done." I say hurriedly but he has become very pale and looks straight into my eyes, his voice only slightly audible then the whistle itself.

"That whistle, that whistle attracts animals."

**Nate Morgue (D11)**

I chuck a stone at the floor angrily and step forward another pace, sighing heavily. I look at the bushes, barely glancing at them before I stuff them angrily into one of the cloths. Then I have to make myself go back and examine the berries properly, yes, they're safe, I've seen them before. I shove the cloth onto my belt and then trudge towards the next bush, poisonous, definitely poisonous. Then a horrific thought hits my head, I could give them to Mitchel. Immediately I banish it, no way am I doing that, I am not a murderer. But still the thought remains, lingering at the back of my mind, teasing me like a broken promise. I know deep down that both Willow and Mitchel are going have to die for me to get back home but as far as this goes I just don't see how this could happen. I'll stick with them for the time being.

I'm just about to approach the next berry bush when I hear a high pitched whistle pierce the air from the direction of our camp. I whip my head around, whatever that meant it wasn't good. I'm just about to dash off back to camp to help the others out when I hear a trampling and I step back. There it is again, the ground is vibrating. It's almost like a stampede. A stampede! I yell a quick cry of warning but no-one would hear me over the thundering clash of hooves and feet and I swing up into a tree. One advantage of being from district eleven is that I'm at home in the trees and climbing is second nature to me.

Just in time I manage to scramble up one of the stronger looking trees, when the rush of animals come. First of all there's some sort of ox, though I doubt they're as docile as usual with the Capitol behind them. Then it is followed by another and another and another. This is a herd! I cling to my tree as an ox's horn swipes it and takes a hefty chunk out of the base. That horn must be strong and sharp, stronger than any tribute, sharper than any sword. Those mutts are going to be hard to fight. I just pity whichever tribute has to face them. Then I freeze – Mitchel and Willow!

The stampede finishes as quickly as it began and I leap out of the tree and start charging towards the camp, but then I remember those oxen and their horns, if I go against them I'll just be ripped to shreds like Willow and Mitchel will soon be. I might not be able to live with myself knowing what I'm about to do but at least I'll be able to live. I exhale loudly and then turn a hundred-and-eighty degrees around, screeching the other way then I sprint off in the other direction, away from the oxen, away from danger, away from my allies.

**That was it! I hope you submit a mutt to help me out! Please put them in areas you know are in the arena, desert, forest, lake, hill, shrubbery, field, and a stream. Those places! Here is the tribute list that I was too tired to put up yesterday! In case you didn't notice, Destiny ran away from the careers when she saw the fire and Nate left his alliance with Willow and Mitchel. Sorry!**

District One – Luxury Goods

BOY Tournaline "Tour" Solier X _(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Destiny Bond **

District Two – Weapons, Peacekeepers +Architecture

**BOY Shale Overheart **_(Lainey Rain)_

**GIRL Twira Hearthright **_(Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Three - Electronics

**BOY Cole Dallan**

GIRL Quazza Willowwhisper X_ (Cole Dallan)_

District Four - Fishing

**BOY Roderick "Rod" Giffords**_ (Twira Hearthright)_

**GIRL Lainey Rain**_ (Shale Overheart)_

District Five - Science

**BOY Arcturus "Arc" Starre** (_Fenora Kensington, Axel Leaf, Lindsey Grey)_

**GIRL Fenora Kensington **_(Arcturus "Arc" Starre, Axel Leaf, Lindsey Grey)_

District Six - Medicine

BOY Brink Freeman X (_Thistle Clay_)

GIRL Reena Woodson X _(Lusa Canvis)_

District Seven - Lumber

**BOY Axel Leaf**_ (Lindsey Gray, Fenora Kensington, Arcturs "Arc" Starre)_

**GIRL Lindsey Gray**_ (Axel Leaf, Febora Kensington, Arcturus "Arc Starre)_

District Eight - Textiles

BOY Robert Tars X (_Tournaline "Tour" Solier_)

GIRL Tessinal "Tess" Carter X (_Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Nine – Food Processing

BOY Dallas Starconn_X (Twira Hearthright)_

GIRL Lusa Canvis X _(Mutts_)

District Ten - Livestock

**BOY Mitchel Rye **_(Willow Grams)_

**GIRL Willow Grams**_ (Mitchel Rye)_

District Eleven - Agriculture

**BOY Nate Morgue **

**GIRL Thistle Clay**

District Twelve – Coal Mining

BOY Braxlin Coal_ X (Lainey Rain)_

GIRL Match Lyte X (_Twira Hearthright_)

**The next one should be up in a couple of days if not tomorrow! Please make a mutt or two, but make it good, don't do one for a mutt's sake. Oh, and if you're a Gamemaker you really should be making a mutt because that's a thing you're basically required to do, help me out and I need help!**


	39. Fighting Your Heart

**Whether it feels like it or not this is the late afternoon and evening and when Willow caused the stampede it was late afternoon and it picks up from there! What I'm doing now is two to three chapters per day of the games so it will be a couple of weeks overall probably!**

_**D**__AY __**F**__OUR_

**Mitchel Rye (D10)**

I feel the ground shuddering before I hear the trample of feet or hooves. I leap up to my feet.

"Give me your knife." I say to Willow calmly.

"Why do I need to-" She starts.

"GIVE ME YOUR KNIFE!" I yell and Willow hastily hands it over and I replace it with my sharpened stick. She looks at me, petrified. I close my eyes; I know exactly what I'm going to do.

"They're coming." I say meekly, "Now go!" I yell and push Willow away.

"What about you?" She squeaks and I give her a charismatic smile and a quick shove in the right direction.

"I'll go the other way. We'll meet up later, now run!" I lie and shove her into the woods. She sprints off into the distance and I smile knowingly. How easy it is to lie. I can't believe she bought it, that she thought I would meet up with her later. I have no intention of meeting up with her later; I have no intention of doing anything later. Because later I will be dead. It only took me a few seconds to realize that whatever mutts will be coming my way will be out to get me and that if one of us is going to survive the other has to act as bait and I'm the one with the whistle. I blow into it, the piercing sound streaking through the air and I hear a thundering coming towards me, the ground shivering under the weight of whatever mutt or mutts will be after me. I just hope it's quick.

Then I see the first, an ox! I almost cry out, I know all about oxen, I'm from district ten after all; I have grown up around them. I've seen them be born, I've seen them be herded, I've seen them feed and I've seen them be slaughtered. It looks like I've ended up fighting my livelihood, my heart. It wouldn't surprise me if the Gamemakers ended up doing this on purpose. I gulp and look at the knife in my hand and turn back to the hulk of a beast with impressive horns so thick I would swear that they are like trees sticking out of the side of its head. How am I going to fight that?

Then something silver flutters down and lands in my hands – a sponsor gift! I freeze momentarily, I have a sponsor? I can't ask for any miracles but at the moment I only have a knife to fight a full sized ox off with so I anything would be good. It's too small though, too small to be an effective weapon of some type. I finger the silver material and then ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach and rip it open. A small piece of twine flutters down and I look at the empty box. Can they even send empty boxes? Then I realize what the present was and I pick up the twine, delicately inspecting it. Twine, of all of the things I could have been given I was given twine.

Then a plan creeps into my mind. I have been given a small thread of hope after all. I bend down and scramble on the ground, finally gripping a long, sturdy stick and I hurriedly tie my knife to the end of it. It may not be the best knot I've tied but it should hold. I grip the stick and smile appreciatively in the air for both my sponsor and my mentor to see. Thank goodness he finally did something useful and he made a small glimmer of hope out of the one probably pathetic paying sponsor I have.

The first beast lumbers my way and I strike out the stick at it, creating a gash in its side. I jump back, alert, as the ox swings its mighty horns, narrowly missing my stomach. I raise the knife on the end of the stick and bring it across its throat. It lumbers backwards then struggles around dazed and finally collapses, defeated, on the floor. It's breathing becomes shallow until it has cut out for ever.

I pant heavily and lift my makeshift weapon up into the sky, examining it. I never thought that such a simple design could save my life so easily. But then my heart sinks yet again and I feel the ground shudder violently beneath my feet. Suddenly a stampede of oxen rushes up to me. I don't have enough time to even scream before the oxen are on top of me, my weapon useless as they trample over my body, crushing me until I am no more.

**Twira Hearthright (D2)**

A cannon shot rips through the air and for once I don't smile in the knowledge that another life has ceased. Instead I ignore the shot and try and focus on the slightly larger problem at hand – the fire. Destiny bolted after Lainey and Shale into the desert, but Lainey and Shale managed to scoop up an extra canteen full of water each and Destiny made off with her knife, a sword and two backpacks full of provisions. But at the moment that isn't what I should be worrying about, I should be worrying about the flames raging through the sky and ripping through our tents like paper. Rod and I have backed up desperately next to the supplies and are trying in vain to keep the fire from our provisions. Eventually we glance at each other and nod; we have to abandon the supplies. Rod grabs two rucksacks like Destiny did and starts stuffing them full of supplies while I pack a larger bag with provisions. Rod and I grapple at our supplies, shovelling them into our packs.

"Should we run into the woods or follow the deserters into the desert?" Rod asks and I let a wicked smile escape from my mouth.

"I never run away from danger."

"Well it looks like we're going into the desert then, I'll pack extra water and blankets."

"Blankets?" I ask, puzzled. Now it's Rod's turn to smile.

"It's freezing in the desert at night."

"What would I do without you?" The compliment escapes my lips before I can fully process what I have just said.

"I really don't know Twira, I really don't know."

I find myself smiling despite the occasion. Almost always when the career's stores are destroyed the tributes from other districts win, it's almost like a hidden hunger games rule. But I'm Twira Hearthright and if I know one thing it's that rules are made to be broken.

**Thistle Clay (D11)**

I look carefully at my mound of supplies and smile slyly. Someone's taken a little. Just a little, but still enough for me to tell it's gone. It must have been in the dead of night when I was asleep but tonight I'll be ready for them, whoever it is. I hitch my arrows onto my back and grip my bow in my hand, ready like a tiger waiting to pounce. Then I settle down near my food pile so whoever it is that is stealing my food will have to wait. The sun slowly slinks down, melting into the horizon until it's pitch black. I freeze in the darkness and wait for someone to come. I'm about to give up when I see a figure dashing across the clearing out of the corner of my eye. I hurriedly leap to my feet and notch and arrow to my bow and then carefully point it at the figure.

"Don't move or I'll shoot." I growl and the figure tenses then leaps upright and raises their hands defensively up above their head in plain view of me, despite the darkness.

"Don't shoot." A boy's voice calls in desperation and I creep forward to look at his face. As soon as I've glanced at his face II let my arm droop and my bow rest at my side.

"Nate!" I call. I'm surprised to see my district partner, Nate, and he looks just as surprised to see me.

"Willow?" He stammers and steps forward uneasily, then as he sees me his face sinks, "Oh it's you Thistle."

"Why did you think I was that airhead from ten?" I snap at him and he pales slightly.

"I was in an alliance with Mitchel, that's the boy from ten, and Willow. But now one of them, I don't know which, one of them is-"

"Dead." I finish bluntly and Nate flinches. I feel my heart soften for him. "It doesn't matter Nate, what does matter is you, what am I meant to do with you?"

He stares at me, shocked, and then manages to stutter out a barely audible sentence, "But I thought we got on well."

"Yes, but these are the HUNGER GAMES, people die!" I snap and Nate's head sinks to the floor, his vision dropping low to the mossy ground. "I'm a murderer Nate."

He looks at me, shocked, then his brow creases, puzzled. "Who?" He asks and now it's my turn to drop my head to.

"The boy, the boy from, in the bloodbath, I shot, it was an automatic reflex, I didn't mean to," I stammer and then all the emotions that have blocked up inside me suddenly burst and they flood out of me in tears. I collapse on Nate and he stands rigid awkwardly and now I know that this is the start of an alliance together.

**I **_**would **_**put up the tribute list but I can't be bothered, maybe later!**

**CAUTION: Below is a very long rant about the unjust ways of education! =D**

**Sorry I didn't update yesterday – I was busy. I did say my updating would slow down dramatically. But it's almost the weekend, even if I do have to revise for my German orals! I'll hopefully update Saturday and Sunday even if it is the prize giving *yawn* on Sunday. Believe it or not I didn't even get a single prize! No, not the history prize (you wouldn't believe how much effort I put into history) or any of the science prizes (top set in all three of them) or the maths prize (I may be top set but the other person DID deserve it) or the drama prize (Ok, ok, the other person is the drama scholar and generally amazing and we make a great duo together). I didn't even get one of the two English prizes! I mean – you've read this and probably gnawing hunger too! Has anyone else done anything like that? Life is unjust! I SO should have got that English prize, the girl who did is my friend but she admits it really should have my name on it because she got the Art prize AND she only gets A/Bs in English whereas I get A*s! Meh – well I'll stop my ranting now since you'll no doubt believe that my English isn't great if you've read this much of my stuff! Anyway, it's childish but at least I voice my opinion she tells me that I'm jealous and I agree and say that I am because, quite simply, I am. I WANTED THAT ENGLISH PRIZE SO MUCH! Oh yeah, and I applied for the public speaking team and out of six applying who were the three people who were on there? Only my three friends! One got the maths, ICT and English creative writing prize, one got drama and the merit prize and the other got French, biology and Latin! Me? I get nothing, NOTHING! I'm on that stage when I'm just below the best but I'm too good to improve, I'm on that level that everyone ignores, I'm good at stuff, much better than most people, but still I am never ever the best at anything! I am always the person who comes second place, just beaten at the post, I AM THE ONE EVERYONE TREADS ON AND IGNORES!**

**Random question – has anyone REALLY deserved something like a prize or a prefect position or to be on a team when someone else who didn't deserve it as much as you got it? Please tell me and cheer me up because I am upset (as you have no doubt gathered)! =(**


	40. Oasis in the desert

_**D**__AY __**F**__IVE_

**Axel Leaf (D7)**

I ignore the weird looks Fenora is giving me, knowing full well that everyone gives me weird looks. I'm a competitor in these games and maybe they're just starting to wake up and realize that they should maybe watch their back when I'm around. Not like Fenora needs to be more alert. Lindsey explained to me that she's like this because her great-great aunt or some other ridiculous relative died in the hunger games. I still don't see why that should affect her but when I heard she was killed by the Mockingjay I understood slightly. Anyone killed by the Mockingjay brings shame on their families, even if it was under law and before she became the Mockingjay. It doesn't matter quite simply because she is the Mockingjay and she is dangerous. _Was_ the Mockingjay, _was_ dangerous, I correct myself and allow a slight smile to creep onto my lips. She died at the hands of the cold embrace of the arena. It is no shame to die competing but anything even slightly near the Mockingjay's icily cold grip is counted as shameful, no matter which side you are on.

I am shaken out of my thoughts by Arc's shouting bitterly at Fenora. I try to stifle a laugh but it doesn't work. As soon as the slight giggle escapes my lips Fenora's head whips around and her beady eyes and fox-like features bear into my skin, cutting through my nerves like glass

"What!" She snaps and I gulp.

"It's just, well, you two are so funny together." I admit and Fenora's eyebrow raises so high I could almost swear it would shoot off the top of her head.

"What do you mean, _funny_?" She sneers and I look around frantically for help, maybe this wasn't a good idea, I could have just said I remembered a joke or something but no, I just had to go and make Fenora angry, and Fenora being angry is not a sight you want to see. Luckily Lindsey intervenes and saves my bacon.

"The way you argue, that's what Axel means, you're like an old couple, always bickering." Lindsey says and glances my way, following her gaze with a wink and slowly and purposefully walking away. Arc goes as white as a sheet while Fenora goes a rare shade of maroon.

"What do you mean, _old couple_!" They snap at the same time and Lindsey and I glance at each other at the same time and snigger slightly.

"Oh come on, Fenora, you're so bossy." I say.

"And Arc is so weak willed." Finishes Lindsey.

"Bossy!" Yells Fenora angrily.

"Who are you calling weak willed?" Snaps Arc at the same time.

Lindsey and I exchange a glance and shake our heads slowly and walk away to sort out our pile, leaving a bewildered Fenora and Arc to sort out their problems.

**Lainey Rain (D4)**

I look at Shale and smile reassuringly; even if it's not reassuring we need but water instead. We have enough to keep going for a few more days but that's it. I wave to stop and Shale and I collapse dramatically onto a large rock and let out a sigh of relief. We then unzip our packs and look into them. Both Shale and I had our packs which we had packed to go into a forest, not a desert. We have a first aid kit, matches, food, rope and water as well as an extra canteen each which we picked up at the career camp. Really there was no time to stop. Suddenly Shale tugs me up and points to the horizon at an oasis.

"It's another mirage Shale, just another mirage." I say but Shale shakes his head.

"No, you can't hear mirages Lainey and I can definitely hear water."

I freeze and prick my ears open. There, if only on the slight distance is the trickling of water.

"But why would the water be moving?" I ask and Shale pauses, thinking for a moment. I'm sure he'll come up with a brilliant answer of some sort.

"I have no idea Lainey, let's go and find out." I nod meekly. That's just perfect. A desert isn't a great place for a girl from district four who has grown up around fishermen and water all her life and has probably spent as much time on a boat as on the solid ground. I don't feel comfortable here, but then again, how could you feel comfortable in the hunger games?

Shale and I step forward and start off to get to the oasis in the sweltering morning sun, but I know it will get a lot hotter in midday and no matter that I have wrapped the cloth they supplied around my head and Shale's too which I pick pocketed, it doesn't matter because if we don't get to water and shade too we'll be done for.

Suddenly I feel cold water around me bare feet, replacing the baking desert sand. I squeal in refreshment and let the surprisingly cool water submerge my almost burnt feet and squat down so almost all of me is covered in water.

"Lainey..." Shale murmurs but I ignore him and keep on washing, he may not want to see me when 'm not fully decent but if that's so he can turn away, I'm not stopping refreshing myself just for him.

"Lainey watch out!" Shale yells and dives my way, knocking me into the water. I feel like laughing but then I see what he pushed me aside for. A giant creature, towering above whatever I've seen, a huge bulk and expanse of grey with tusks as big as my arm is turning slowly back the way it came from after its charge, back towards me.

"What is it?" I whisper as Shale tugs me to our feet and unsheathes a sword as I grip a knife in each hand.

"That is a mutt Lainey and that is definitely not a very happy one." Shale says to me and I roll my eyes, is now really the time for sarcasm? "I think it's some sort of rhino, rhinoceros, but it's a lot bigger than it is in pictures." Admits Shale and we slowly back further into the oasis which is deeper than I originally thought. I don't even mutter or do anything in fear of making it angry.

**Destiny Bond (D1)**

I peek out at the rhinoceros behind the rocks I'm looking at and see it paw the ground, ready to charge at Lainey and Shale. I was going to attack them while they filled up with water but this just complicates things. If I attack them the rhino will get me, if I leave them alone they might kill the rhino and live or be killed but if that's the case the rhino will go after me and in a one on one battle with an angry rhino my odds don't look too great. So it won't be a one on one battle, it will be a three on one battle. Discarding my better judgement I yell some weird type of battle call and charge at the rhino, letting my knife fly straight in between its eyes. It doesn't even flinch.

This time I yell as I sprint away from the rhino and grab my sword. I should be fine, I should win this. I _will_ win this, I just have to believe in myself. Somehow that's easier said than done. I join Lainey and Shale and together we make a petty line against the rhino who is ready to charge from the other side of the oasis.

"What the tributes do you think you're doing here?" Yells Lainey at me.

"Nice to see you too!" I call chirpily and brandish my sword, ready for a fight. Then a cold piece of metal touches my throat and I feel Shale's sword pressed against my throat.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't just kill you right now." Shale hisses in a very un-Shale like way. In reply to his question I point at the angry rhino charging towards us, lumbering across the oasis.

"Fair point." Shrugs Lainey and tugs the sword out of Shale's hand, away from my neck and hands it back to him, "Don't worry, he has seen too many corny films."

I nod and gently massage my neck; I'm not talking now, especially with my neck on the line, quite literally. It feels sore and I really don't want to risk infection my breathing too hard or anything, even if the sword barely penetrated the skin. I avoid Shale's gaze and he avoids mine, which isn't too hard considering there's a ten tonne rhino charging at us full pelt.

"Why isn't it dead? I struck it right between the eyes! It should be dead!" I yell and then suddenly Shale pales and shouts out.

"Rock! It's made of rock! How do we kill rock?"

I frantically wave my hands about, gesticulating. "Rock kills scissors, scissors kills paper, now what kills rock? What kills rock? Um... Oh I know! Paper! Has anyone got any paper?"

My two allies look at me like I'm talking nonsense which I suppose I am. I screw my face up in determination.

"Water! Rocks sink! We've got to make it charge across the middle of the oasis! Move!" I yell and tug Shale and Lainey across. The rhinoceros lumbers towards us and slows down. It ebbs into a halt and when it tries to move it stops. Slowly and carefully, no matter how much it thrashes frantically about in the water surrounding it like a prison, it sinks beneath the surface and gives out a low, mournful screech before finally disappearing forever.

I look at my new allies and sigh, wiping some sweat off my brow which isn't just from the heat and smile enthusiastically at the shocked and mortified looking faces of Shale and Lainey.

"This is much more fun than netball!"

**Lame last line I know, but I ran out of ideas. Tell you what, since some of you lot (one person) are(is) clamouring for a caption competition to go back up what about we see if anyone can come up with a better last line there? If not then I'll keep it as it is!**

**Thanks to 'lacrossefreak100' (I have nothing against your name by the way so therefore nothing against you – I was just stating I am REALLY bad at lacrosse and therefore don't like it) for submitting a mutt which I used in this chapter! Other mutts may be used, it depends how bored I'm getting! Please feel free to submit more! =D**

**I have a new poll up on my profile so go and vote! It's up to five choices out of ten so you have plenty of options to vote for! PLEASE VOTE if you have an account, if you don't – get one and then vote! =D**

District One – Luxury Goods

BOY Tournaline "Tour" Solier X _(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Destiny Bond **_(Lainey Rain, Shale Overheart)_

District Two – Weapons, Peacekeepers +Architecture

**BOY Shale Overheart **_(Lainey Rain, Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Twira Hearthright **_(Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Three - Electronics

**BOY Cole Dallan**

GIRL Quazza Willowwhisper X_ (Cole Dallan)_

District Four - Fishing

**BOY Roderick "Rod" Giffords**_ (Twira Hearthright)_

**GIRL Lainey Rain**_ (Shale Overheart, Destiny bond)_

District Five - Science

**BOY Arcturus "Arc" Starre** (_Fenora Kensington, Axel Leaf, Lindsey Grey)_

**GIRL Fenora Kensington **_(Arcturus "Arc" Starre, Axel Leaf, Lindsey Grey)_

District Six - Medicine

BOY Brink Freeman X (_Thistle Clay_)

GIRL Reena Woodson X _(Lusa Canvis)_

District Seven - Lumber

**BOY Axel Leaf**_ (Lindsey Gray, Fenora Kensington, Arcturs "Arc" Starre)_

**GIRL Lindsey Gray**_ (Axel Leaf, Febora Kensington, Arcturus "Arc Starre)_

District Eight - Textiles

BOY Robert Tars X (_Tournaline "Tour" Solier_)

GIRL Tessinal "Tess" Carter X (_Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Nine – Food Processing

BOY Dallas Starconn_X (Twira Hearthright)_

GIRL Lusa Canvis X _(Mutts_)

District Ten - Livestock

BOY Mitchel Rye X _(Mutts)_

**GIRL Willow Grams**

District Eleven - Agriculture

**BOY Nate Morgue **_(Thistle Clay)_

**GIRL Thistle Clay**_ (Nate Morgue)_

District Twelve – Coal Mining

BOY Braxlin Coal_ X (Lainey Rain)_

GIRL Match Lyte X (_Twira Hearthright_)

**It's midnight now so I should really go to sleep – I've been up for hours doing this chapter for you so feel special! By the way – chapter 42 for Gnawing Hunger is up to anyone who wants to know! The next chapter MIGHT be called 'Tremors in the heart' but I can't tell, I'm basically making this up as I go along! =D**


	41. Heart Tremors

_**D**__AY __**F**__IVE_

**Roderick "Rod" Giffords (D4)**

Twira and I stay silent, taking the odd swig from our water bottle and not mentioning the events of the night before which have turned the atmosphere between us sincere and grisly.

_I look at Twira who is carefully tracing her knife along the desert sand and I shiver again under the warmth of the blanket I'm under, not that I'd call it warm, I'm absolutely freezing. Twira seems to be freezing too so I shuffle up to her._

"_If we want to survive we should be closer together, body warmth, you know." I murmur and Twira whips her head around to me._

"_If YOU want to survive you'd go further away, ten miles perhaps." Twira snaps._

"_Alright, keep your wig on; I just wanted to make sure you didn't freeze to death." I say softly and Twira sneers at me._

"_Yes, you wanted to make sure I died with a knife in the heart not freezing!" Sneers Twira and grips her knife harder._

"_Twira, no..." I murmur._

"_Shut up Rod!" She snaps and I become deathly silent, knowing that for yet another night I'll have to sleep in fear of death._

I keep on walking and still Twira and I avert each other's gaze. It would just be too painful. I pause and then murmur.

"Twira, look..."

Twira motions for me to shut up so I stop speaking and then Twira points by us. We have been walking alongside the chasm but now we've reached a smaller section.

"We can jump it!" Twira hisses and I look at it.

"I'm not too sure..."

Stopping the argument before it begins, a silver parachute flutters into Twira's arms at the exact same time as one falls into mine. We pause for a second, shocked, and then rip them open. Twira holds up some planks of wood and I have some sturdy yet thin rope. We look at each other and then nod. Twira organises the planks and I tie them together with the string, trying to make them as sturdy as possible. After a moment's hesitation Twira climbs onto the makeshift bridge and jumps up and down. It holds, barely buckling.

"It should be fine." I say and hand the makeshift bridge to Twira. She gulps slightly and tries to hide her slight fear and places it across the chasm. She slowly wobbles across then suddenly jerks to one slide. She almost falls off but she uses her hand to balance out her weight and then leaps off the end. I let out a sigh of relief, though I don't know why, and slowly creep across the bridge on all fours. Finally I get to the other side and when we've finished we throw the makeshift bridge down the chasm so no-one else will be able to do the same as us. Then we look us at the luscious green forest, inviting and clear just a mile or so away from us, out of the desert, sloping up to a giant hill which plateaus off at the top. We smile slightly and then set off, we still have a few hours to go until we will have to camp for night and even then we will be a lot better.

**Cole Dallan (D3)**

I feel dizzy from hunger. I finished the squirrel yesterday morning and haven't eaten since. I don't know which berries are poisonous or not and while it's very tempting I'm not taking the risk. Yet. I scramble even higher up my tree, large and steady and ridiculously high. I'm just glad I don't have vertigo. I settle in a higher branch. This really is getting on my nerves but if I can get high then maybe something, anything, will be up here. Just as I am taking yet another break amidst the scratching skeleton branches and ripped leaves I suddenly feel something jerk my way. The tree shudders violently and I look around for the cause of the shake.

I grip tightly onto my branch and my fingers claw the bark, trying desperately to get a grip. I straddle onto it and then I slowly tilt around until I jerk sideways and am upside down. But it isn't just my tree that's been affected; the whole forest is rippling, trees tumbling down. Whta is causing this? It couldn't be some sort of mutt, it must be something like, something like...

An earthquake! I yell and clutch onto the tree tighter, it may be old but it's sturdy and it should hold. As if to answer my hopes suddenly the tree screeches and I feel it creak in one direction. My struggle to turn back over now turns into one to hang on for my life. My fingers are red and raw under all of the scratching bark and my face hot and flustered. I pull my face into a grimace and keep gripping the branch. The tree groans as its roots creak around under the shaking earth and snap in two, leaving it to have no supports. I try not to scream as I am jerked out of the tree as my grip fails, the bark scraping a layer off of my skin and my yells echo around the arena.

I crash past branches, hitting my legs and arms and one thumping me straight in the chest, cracking my ribs. It's too painful for me to yell yet I find myself doing it anyway, subconsciously. I finally slam to the floor with an almighty crack and everything about me is on fire, my whole soul. Everything is burning and hurting due to the pain, oh the pain. I clench my eyes but still I see colours flying around me and a tingling feeling rippling through my body like I'm being attacked by feather dusters. I let out a low, mournful screech and then fall backwards, thudding, on the earthy ground and leave the arena with a final shot, cannon fire.

**Fenora Kensington (D5)**

The ground vibrates slowly and then suddenly it is jerking around, throwing all of us sideways. We yell in surprise as we are flung to the side and I hear trees cracking around us.

"Earthquake!" Arc yells a bit too late; he has this thing about stating the obvious, doesn't he? I decide that now's not the time to bite off Arc's head though and I feel myself being flung across our camp and fly into the pool of water, it cushioning my blow, but it still hurts an awful lot. I wince in the pain and am thankful that I was flung quite far in, but even so I hit the bottom of the pond bed and the back of my leg has kicked in again, causing spasms of pain down my body. I grit my teeth and ignore the pain, that isn't what I should be thinking about, I should be thinking about the others, are they alright? I look up quickly and spring out of the water. Axel is clutching his hand which he burnt on the fire but nothing serious, Arc is lying around, dazed on the floor and Lindsey is... Lindsey? My eyes dart around.

"Where's Lindsey?" I ask and Axel leaps to his feet hurriedly before even Arc can look up.

"Lindsey?" Axel yells and I clasp my hand to his mouth.

"No! Don't be so loud!" I hiss and then clasp my hand to my mouth, "Lindsey? Lindsey where are you?"

There's a groan near Arc and we turn to see a foot poking out from beaneath a tree.

"Oh no." Murmurs Arc, unsure of what to say.

"No!" Yells Axel and runs to the tree.

Underneath it is Lindsey, her face strained into a smile, "Hi Axel, how are you?" She mutters and then giggles pathetically, "When you get home, can you, can you tell my family I miss them and that I, that I love them? Graham and Remembrance, don't forget, my uncle, my brother, tell them please."

She turns to me and Arc, "And you too if you, if you win, just tell them, tell them that I love them. I love them with all my heart."

Lindsey sighs heavily and I see the life force seeping out of her. Then Axel bends down and slaps her hard on the cheek and she stirs slightly then he does it again and again but when she opens her eyes she shakes her head solemnly, "Don't bother Axel, it's too late to save me now."

"It's never too late, NEVER!" Axel screams and slaps her hard again. Arc rushes up to him and restrains him.

"Stop it, let her die in peace Axel." Arc hisses but I shake my head along with his tears.

"No, no, we can save her. Arc, let Axel go, Axel, help me lift this log." I demand and Axel shrugs Arc off and helps me try and push the log, "Arc, keep slapping her, keep her in the arena."

Reluctantly Arc creeps up to Lindsey and slaps her, muttering _sorry_ after every slap. I wince as well along with Lindsey as Axel and I drag the quite young tree off her. Eventually after pulling, slapping and wincing Arc and I look straight at Lindsey while Axel averts his gaze.

"I she, Is she going to, is she going-" Axel stammers and I cut him off with a wave of my hand. I examine Lindsey again and I grimace slightly and then kneel down to see her. I feel for a pulse, yes, weak but evident. I look up at Axel and Arc's waiting faces and then shake my head. They start to turn away and then I smile, turning into a chuckle and I say what I've realized is ture.

"She's going to live."

**So sorry to the creator of Cole but I needed to kill someone in the tremors and he was the unlucky victim! I'll put the tribute list up next chapter! Lindsey may live but she's weak so has a disadvantage for a few days and who knows what after effects she will have?**

**I've started a community, The Mockingjay Sings, which is a collection of some of the best stories out there! All who want to join as staff request so and I have asked five people if they would like to as a starting point, it will come up on your email. (Don't worry lacrossefreak100, you're not on there!) If you haven't received such an email it doesn't mean I don't want you in! Just request and I'll get you in! As staff you can add (and maybe delete – I don't know) stories to the community, which is basically a collection of stories! Great? I know! So request to join if you want to and I'll be happy to have you! **

**Thanks a lot, SneverusSnapers!**

**P.S. I don't want to say I have favourites but I do, but this won't byast whether they live or die... that much! My favourite five would be Willow, Twira, Nate, Fenora and Arc. Fenora and Arc because they're so fun to write together, Willow because, well, she's pretended to be an airhead all her life but now she's fighting back, Twira just because she's lethal and Nate probably because I've been getting to know RiversOfVenice via PMs and we're thinking about writing (me co-writing) a story called Set on Fire about Katniss and Peeta's children! I've written a possible prologue so check out RiversOfVenice's profile, but it will only get up on Tuesday (apparentely) so you'll have to wait till then if it's happenening!**

**P.P.S Sorry, I forgot! I have but up 'Enter the Everlasting Black' which is a collection of one-shots related around the songs in Gnawing Hunger.**


	42. Hide and Seek

_**D**__AY __**S**__IX_

**Arcturus "Arc" Starre (D5)**

I close my eyes, tightening them so my vision is clenched shut. I count slowly in my head:

_One_, I hear the scurrying of feet which could easily be distinguished for prey, well, I guess the person who is moving technically is prey in the arena.

_Two, _I breathe slowly, carefully. I almost breathe slower then I count, tediously slow in fact.

_Three_, I hear the beating of my heart drumming in my ears yet still the shuffling of feet, though light like the pattering of rain, reaches my straining ear lobes.

_Four_, No sound, no anything, nothing. Just the steady beating of my heart and the slight whistle of the wind echoed by the awkward call of a lone Mockingjay, calling, searching.

_Five_, I whip my eyes open and spin around just to see a figure dart into the woodland. I rack my brains, trying to fit a shape or form to the figure yet none comes, none comes at all. I grimace and press on and stagger towards centre camp. I slowly approach the shelter we build and suddenly dive to the floor, squinting inside. No-one's there. I cross the main area around the pond and glance at the edge of the forest. I see Lindsey sleeping softly, curled up in a protective ball. I'm not sure it's safe to do that after the accident with the earthquake but no matter how many times we stretch her back out just minutes later she automatically springs back into a ball, like a machine. I smile softly at her sleeping face and then creep past her; I have more important things to do.

I enter the border of the woods and see a figure crouching behind a large rock which barely covers them.

"Oh really, is that the best you can do?" I scoff and Fenora leaps up and glowers up me, followed by her trademark roll of eyes.

"Honestly, it's a lot better when you just stood behind me, I mean really, and anyway, whose stupid idea was it to play hide and seek? It's for children."

"In case you haven't noticed, we are children." I say sarcastically but I am greeted by yet another roll of her eyes.

"Honestly Arc, we're in the arena, primed to kill and you suggest we play hide and seek?" Fenora sneers. The childish frame I have built around myself shatters and reality smacks me in the face, her harsh words ringing in my ears. I pause and open my mouth to speak but all that comes out is an awkward stutter. Fenora grips my arm and although I don't see her eyes I'm sure she rolls them.

"You know, if you always roll your eyes like that the wind will change direction and they'll get stuck like that, forever rolling." I point out.

"Yeah, like that's true too, star-eyes!" Fenora scoffs, but I see a hint of panic in her voice and she seems to have stopped rolling her eyes.

"Actually it is, my uncle told me." I say and ignore Fenora's glare.

We approach the main camp and look around for Axel. I have no idea where he will be. I glance around as does Fenora. Then I suddenly see a bubble burst on the surface of the lake, and another and another.

"Fenora..." I mutter but Fenora glares at me and ignores me yet again, I try once more, "Really, Fenora..."

"What is it!" She snaps at me and I point to the bubbles coming out of the pool of water. Slowly Fenora creeps up to the source of the bubbling and then wrenches her hand underneath the water and brings it back up, bringing a gasping Axel to the surface.

"How did you learn to hold your breath for so long?" Fenora demands and Axel glances at her mid frantic intake of breath.

"What? Oh me? I have no idea, ask someone else."

I turn to Fenora who is staring at Axel. I hear her murmur something to herself and then roll her eyes at him again. _One day_, I tell myself, _the wind will blow the wrong way and she will be stuck like that forever._

**Shale Overheart (D2)**

I look between the two girls either side of me. In training they got on rather well. Now, however, when the heat has upped in the day and the temperature has dropped radically in the night, their relationship has sank too. Really I'm not sure about them. Destiny is from district one; I'm from district two and Lainey's from four. We're all careers, well, at least pretending to be, and we're all here, stuck together. Both of them have killed. It frightens me to think that now I am lying here, right next to two murderers. Destiny killed her district partner, Tour, who actually seemed to be a bit like me, trying to be a career, but unlike me he was selfish, arrogant and a total prat. Of course I still didn't want him dead but these are the hunger games and I certainly won't be mourning him over anyone else that has died in the arena.

The ground shook earlier, throwing us aside, but we're in the desert, what is there to worry about? I mean, there are no trees to fall on us. Yet there are no trees to hide in, there is no water for us to drown in, but nor is there any to drink. The food isn't poisonous quite simply because there is no food. I'm worried for my, well, everyone's safety. But I can't fight it, I will just have to put up with it. Only one of us, out of the ones reaming, can live. I break the silence from Lainey and Destiny glaring angrily at each other.

"How many are there of us?" I ask and the two girls look at each other silently, I decide to kick start the listing, "Well there's Rod and Twira still out there."

"And the boy from three," adds Lainey eventually. Then suddenly, as if just to spite her, the games logo leaps into the sky hurriedly followed by the face of the boy from three.

"Or not..." Destiny murmurs, "Well, that explains the cannon shot when the ground shook."

"Where were we?" I cut in before the evil looks they are shooting at each other turn into evil glares. "So let's think from districts up then? It's easier."

"District one, me and Tour, so that's one of us alive." Shrugs Destiny. I'm shocked by how cold hearted she is, like one of the reptiles that scurry around the desert at night.

"Then Twira and I make up district two, both of us are here so we've counted three so far." I say, trying to sound happy about it all.

"Both of the tributes in three are dead now and both of us from four are alive so that's three plus two, erm, four, no! Five, sorry!" Lainey mutters.

"Both from five are alive, six are dead, seven are alive, that makes _nine_ Lainey, just so you know." Destiny says and both Lainey and Destiny glare at each other again.

"Right! Well, let's think. The male from eight was killed in the bloodbath and the female soon after and the little girl from nine was killed by another tribute since none of us careers did it and the guy died in the bloodbath." I say and there is an awkward silence which is broken by Lainey.

"Yes, well, the girl from ten and both from eleven are still alive, though the boy died last night, we saw it in the sky." Lainey says and I nod.

"Both from twelve are dead, so adding the three from ten and eleven that makes twelve. Twelve, we're half way through!" Explains Destiny and although I guess I should feel happy that I'm half way to home I just feel a bitter emptiness and a regretful sorrow for all the lives that were lost. And so I say to myself that I will never prevent life needlessly or heartlessly and I will never become a monster like so many tributes before me. I will stay as myself, I will always be Shale Overheart.

**Lindsey Grey (D7)**

I am jerked awake by something inside my stomach, an inner feeling, inner strength. Somehow I feel queasy and worried, like I can tell, I can sense something bad is going to happen, is happening. And I don't just mean being in the games, I mean something bad like earlier today, and then it starts. The quake earlier must have just have been a pre-earthquake, like an echo before the occurrence, a hiccup that never should have happened. A hiccup that almost killed me. But now this is worse, a lot worse. Luckily we all moved away from the trees in case of a recoil hitting us but we never expected anything like this.

I feel raw all over, worse than when my stylists treated me, yet still I ignore the pain gnawing away at me from either sides and writhe in my brain, thinking, processing, what is going on around me. Trees are uprooting as you would do weeds in your garden and you can hear groans and shrieks coming from their roots and they are plucked out of their home, just like I was when I was shoved into the hunger games without anything I stop me, to let me go, free away from this terror and massacre. Twenty three people, twenty three children, every year, just to deliver a message. Couldn't they employ a town crier or something? But no, instead they sentence us to death, they murder us. And every death is marked with a cannon fire, a formal affair.

That noise means so much yet it means so little. That noise signifies the end for one and a step for many, that noise signifies death. The earth shudders and I close my eyes and press myself to it, grabbing a tuft of grass and holding on for my dear life, just to survive, just to live.

The quake finishes as quickly as it started and I would have thought that it never happened, was just a figment of my imagination, if it wasn't for the toppled trees and broken ground. Yes, that was yet another earthquake. But this time it was harsher and cruler and a lot more ruthless, except I hear no cannon fire. I hear no cannon fire. Yet.

**Thanks everyone for being so patient with me. Sorry it took a few days to get this up, I've just finished the games (though not the whole story) in Gnawing Hunger and have been working on 'Set On Fire' with RiversOfVenice which you can find on her profile which you can find on my favourite author list. Well I hope you enjoyed this chapter and will enjoy the many more to come!**

**Oh yes, and before I forget, 'beanrocks' has joined our faitful list of Gamemakers! =D I say the new nickname for you shall be... rocky! Whoop whoop!**

**Well enjoy yourself and review - I always appreciate it, and can I say that I am NO WAY byast about these and if anyone things I kill of their tributes because of their name or that they haven't reviewed often or that they don't PM me 24/7 then don't worry - it's not true! A review every once in a while shows me you're still reading and you still care, that's all! If you don't review every now and then I might think you've lost interest or aren't reading this so I might bump off your tribute quicker to give other people's a sporting chance! Well, anyway, all is well and I hope you enjoy this chapter - since it took me AGES to write!**


	43. You Don't Know Half Of It

**Hello Pokela, how's "Brin" doing?**

_**D**__AY __**S**__IX_

**Nate Morgue (D11)**

I glance at Thistle. Our mound of supplies looks promising, well, you can't have too much. I check and re-check everything in the pile, it's safe, it's all safe. I sigh and pop another berry into my mouth. Thistle tuts at me but I ignore her, she's not my problem. My problem is getting enough to eat. I throw a handful of herbs into the pot Thistle has boiling. If we're to make a half decent stew we really should have meat, but the meat Thistle has caught is something she saves for herself, they're just squirrels but still, she's giving herself an unfair advantage. But when I think about it the careers have a lot more than an unfair advantage.

I know what I have to do, I have to leave her. It seems stupid, since we've only just become allies, but she's got the advantage and I just can't let that happen because then she has a better chance of winning than me. I breathe slowly and then shuffle next to Thistle by the pot of herbs.

"How are you?" I ask and Thistle looks at me like I'm mad.

"I'm in the middle of the hunger games, fighting to survive. How do you think I feel?"

"Never mind then." I mutter and turn away slowly but Thistle catches by arm and tugs me around. Surprised I lock eyes with her.

"What?" I ask.

"I feel so, so guilty." She admits.

"How so?" I ask, although I know perfectly well how so.

"It's just, it's just, I don't know if I will be able to look anyone in the eye again if I get back home, I have killed someone and, I'm a bad person, Nate. People will never think of me as they did before.

I duck my head down and slowly tug my knife forward, turning it upside down so I'm clenching the hilt. I nod piteously and then bring my arm up while I keep my head low, avoiding her face. Then I have the hilt of the knife raised above her head, poised and ready to strike. I freeze and then bring it crashing down onto Thistle's head. I feel the tough wood smash against bone and she looks at me, shocked.

I look up at Thistle, shake my head and sigh as she lets out her breath and slumps into unconsciousness, "You don't know half of it."

**Twira ***_coughBrincough_*** Hearthright (D2)**

The third shake sends us flying to the floor, desperately grappling to get hold of something, anything. Rod and I both cling to the first reach, in my case a log, in Rod's case a rock. We press ourselves to the ground as the shake sends us toppling left and right and we clutch onto the floor now, our grip on the tufts of grass lessening as each blade is plucked out of the ground. As soon as it started it stops and Rod and I get up. They're getting more violent every time, although I guess we have started getting used to them, preparing.

"Do you think they're going to keep on going?" Rod asks and I tut.

"Come on, you're meant to be the survival expert!" I say and Rod flushes red.

"I wouldn't exactly call myself that." He says and looks around, "But we need food and water. That's no survivial expert's feat."

"Well where are we going to get it?"

"The ground is getting more fertile the closer we get to the giant hill, that probably means that there is a lake or something on top of it."

"How do they get a lake on top of almost a mountain?" I hiss.

"I don't know, they're Gamemakers, they do these things." Explains Rod and I snort.

"'They're Gamemakers, they do these things.'" I imitate his voice, "I mean honestly Rod, you're meant to be a bit cleverer than that!"

"Well sorry." Huffs Rod and he picks up a stick and snaps it in two, "But now I'm going to do something clever."

I look at him distastefully. He holds a stick in each hand and lets his hand stay loose and the sticks swing in the air. He moves in a circle and the sticks cross the opposite way from the plateau.

"Mottled Mushrooms!" Rod curses and tries it again, this time the sticks cross to my left.

"What are you doing?" I ask him and Rod looks up momentarily.

"Dousing." Says Rod as if that would explain all.

"Dousing?" I ask and Rod nods slowly.

"You hold two sticks and the direction they cross in there's meant to be water."

"Right!" I say and grab the sticks before Rod can protest. I swing my arms around and as soon as they both point to the plateau hill then I jerk them so they cross.

"There! Now let's go!" I call and Rod sighs as he follows me towards the hill, towards fate.

**Willow Grams (D10)**

I pant desperately as I leap out of the tree to tumble to the ground again. I can't believe they did that. I can't believe Mitchel would, and did, sacrifice himself for me whereas Nate, the one who I was sure had true feelings for me instead of fleeting fancies, left me to die. I'm so confused. Evidently I don't know who is who or what is going on where. All I know is that I just have a sharp stick Mitchel swapped with a knife and a dwindling supply of food and water. I close my eyes and wish to wander upon a pool of water yet I find none. I find none at all.

I am just steadying myself after the last earthquake or whatever it was, all I know is that I'm scared, really scared. I try to breathe in and out, slowly, carefully. Breathe, breathe, breathe. I rummage through my supplies. I have a small water canteen attached to my hip only half full of water, enough for a day or maybe more if I measure it out, then I have some berries that Nate got and a handful of crackers, and then that's it.

My sponsors seem to have picked up on my desperation because when I look up to the sky I see a silver parachute flutter down towards me. I outstretch my hands, reaching out until the silk caresses my fragile skin which has been broken several times over. I slowly stroke the package of silver and rip it open. Inside is a bottle of water. I smile, it's not as much as I could have dreamed for but it should last me for a few more days extra, half a week or so. I get the message though, I now have enough water to move, find some. Because they wouldn't be giving me water if I already am near some. I have to move to find some and the place I can tell there is water is the Cornucopia, but that will have Careers there, so the only other place that I can think of is the plateau, the vegetation there is so lush, but that will mean going through the desert first and that in turn will mean risking my life.

But everything anyone does in the hunger games is a risk and I guess, alongside what I have done previously in the games, going through the desert shouldn't be such a great challenge. Anyway, it doesn't matter that much, I've got to survive and if crossing the desert means surviving then so be it. I'm a survivor, I'll do whatever it takes to survive, whatever it takes.

**I am so sorry that this took ages but I'm afraid it's going to get worse! I've got exams coming up so for a couple of weeks there will be virtually none, if any, updates to anything on fanfic. I apologise but you know how it is, these are exams and they come before fanfic. When I started this I said Gnawing Hunger was my first priority and it still is. It's just the way it is, I did warn you. So I'm afraid there will probably be no more updates in a week's time and probably none till then, because if I do get around to doing something it will be Gnawing Hunger. So sorry everyone! By the way, I am now a beta reader and also I have a new poll up on my profile about Gnawing Hunger! Thanks a lot and sorry again, I just hope the next chapter will be worth the wait!**

District One – Luxury Goods

BOY Tournaline "Tour" Solier X _(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Destiny Bond **_(Lainey Rain, Shale Overheart)_

District Two – Weapons, Peacekeepers +Architecture

**BOY Shale Overheart **_(Lainey Rain, Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Twira Hearthright **_(Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Three - Electronics

BOY Cole Dallan X_ (_Earthquake)

GIRL Quazza Willowwhisper X_ (Cole Dallan)_

District Four - Fishing

**BOY Roderick "Rod" Giffords**_ (Twira Hearthright)_

**GIRL Lainey Rain**_ (Shale Overheart, Destiny Bond)_

District Five - Science

**BOY Arcturus "Arc" Starre** (_Fenora Kensington, Axel Leaf, Lindsey Grey)_

**GIRL Fenora Kensington **_(Arcturus "Arc" Starre, Axel Leaf, Lindsey Grey)_

District Six - Medicine

BOY Brink Freeman X (_Thistle Clay_)

GIRL Reena Woodson X _(Lusa Canvis)_

District Seven - Lumber

**BOY Axel Leaf**_ (Lindsey Gray, Fenora Kensington, Arcturs "Arc" Starre)_

**GIRL Lindsey Gray**_ (Axel Leaf, Febora Kensington, Arcturus "Arc Starre)_

District Eight - Textiles

BOY Robert Tars X (_Tournaline "Tour" Solier_)

GIRL Tessinal "Tess" Carter X (_Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Nine – Food Processing

BOY Dallas Starconn_X (Twira Hearthright)_

GIRL Lusa Canvis X _(Mutts_)

District Ten - Livestock

BOY Mitchel Rye X _(Mutts)_

**GIRL Willow Grams**

District Eleven - Agriculture

**BOY Nate Morgue **_(Thistle Clay)_

**GIRL Thistle Clay**_ (Nate Morgue)_

District Twelve – Coal Mining

BOY Braxlin Coal_ X (Lainey Rain)_

GIRL Match Lyte X (_Twira Hearthright_)


	44. Love, Lies and Lots of Death

**This chapter is dedicated to 'Let The Foxx Fly', the creator of Lainey! Oh yeah, and when I say "Brin" I mean Twira, ok?**

_**D**__AY __**S**__IX_

**Axel Leaf (D7)**

I stare at sky slowly blackening sky. Why aren't the Gamemakers doing something, driving us together? I saw the blazes of a fire and there have been earthquakes but nothing has been targeted at us, the rival alliance. It makes me wonder if we're such a big a threat as we like to make out. Four tributes out of, well, how many is there of us?

"Hey Arc, how many tributes alive are there?" I ask but just as Arc is about to speak Fenora shoves him out of the way and answers herself.

"Five of the original six careers and there's six of us non careers left."

"No Fenora, I think there are seven of us left." Arc cuts in.

"No! Stop being stupid, it's six!" Snaps Fenora. I count in my head.

"I think Arc's right actually, there are seven." I interrupt.

"Arc's never right! Come on, let's count them then shall we?"

"Fine!" Snaps Arc, suddenly off the constant defensive and onto the offensive, "Lindsey, Axel, me, you, then both from eleven, I think they're called Nath and Thistle."

"There, that's six!" Boasts Fenora and I see Arc desperately thinking of the next one.

"Willow." A voice suddenly squeaks and I see Lindsey faintly sitting up, "The girl from ten. That makes seven."

Fenora glares at Arc, giving him a look which could kill a full sized horse and storms off into the woods surrounding, huffing and muttering about how we all have been teaming up against her. I guess she always has to be right. Arc rolls his eyes, taking over Fenora's trait and he bends down and starts whittling wood with the knife Fenora left behind. It's strange she usually takes a weapon with her, but evidently not this time. I rush over to Lindsey.

"Are you ok?" I ask her but she just chuckles slightly and grips her spear, then brings it up to the light.

"Just about as ok as I can be when I'm in an arena where everyone is out to kill each other, recovering from a near death experience. What about you, what do you care so much?"

"Oh, no reason." I say maybe a bit too hurriedly and leap to my feet, jumping away from Lindsey, "Well, I better go, places to see, tributes to kill."

Lindsey slowly props herself up and stretches her hand out so it is only just brushing my skin, "Take care." She whispers quietly and I nod and sneak forward towards the pile of supplies. I will take care, I will. I'll be fine, she'll be fine. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that I win, that I get the glory. But somehow I feel somewhat hollow as I bend down to sort out something to eat from our supplies of a handful of crackers and some roots and berries with a couple of fish, I feel empty as if there is more than survival in this game, but I just don't know what.

**Lainey Rain (D4)**

I look at Destiny, ok, it's more of a glare really. I mean, who does she think she is, bossing me around, pushing both me and Shale around like we're puppets. We're not puppets. We're human beings, but I guess that's the price for volunteering in the hunger games, ah well, you never know, my best friend, Tasha Storm, wouldn't even have lived up to here. And I really didn't want her to steal all the glory, if she won and I volunteered next year she would accuse me of copying her and I do not copy. I set the trends, well with her anyway.

Not my parents, my parents just don't seem to understand. They don't understand me, they just don't. They think I can be pushed around, everyone thinks I can just be pushed around. I grimace. If Destiny takes just one step my way I will stick her with my knife I have gripped in my hand, and if she says just one thing-

"Lainey, stop glowering at me, it's putting me off."

Right. That's it. I can't put up with her for a moment longer. She is going to die before darkness finishes falling. I look to the sky, sunset. Damn. Maybe I shouldn't kill her, I mean, she might be useful. Maybe I could just-

"I said stop glowering Lainey, you're putting me off."

"My face is putting you off?" I snap angrily and Destiny looks up at me from the shelter that both she and Shale are building while I keep watch for any other tributes that may be lurking around the desert at this time of night such as Rod or "Brin" who might be around.

"Yeah, I suppose that's one way of putting it." Destiny says maliciously and bends back down. How dare she say that to me, just how dare she? I give up all means of diplomacy, if I ever applied them, and dive at Destiny. I can barely blink before we both have a knife flicked up high in the air and are facing each other with bitter determination. Shale doesn't even seem to have realized (**with a z**) what is going on.

Destiny lunges at me but I contort my body into a twist and spin out of the way so she dives to the sand ridden ground. She grimaces and then pauses.

"No knives, let's make this personal." She says and she flings her knife to the floor. I pause, this is the hunger games, you are allowed to cheat and lie. But I don't think it's fair, even if the hunger games has nothing to do with fairness and I fling my knife to the ground too.

"Shale, pick them up!" Destiny snaps and Shale hurriedly scampers to bth of our feet and tucks the knives into his belt. He looks between us hurriedly.

"This isn't a good idea..." He stammers but already I am charging at Destiny. I shove her backwards with all my might but as soon as she hits the ground she springs back up again and head butts me in the face, sending me reeling. She closes her eyes menacingly and grips hold of the closest neck that she can find and throttles until it goes limp and the cannon fire sounds.

**Thistle Clay (D11)**

I wake up, my head spinning and glance around the camp. Nath's not here, where is he? Then it all comes flooding back to me, Nath suddenly hitting me over the head with the hilt of his knife, reeling into unconsciousness. I hurriedly glance around the camp. Gone, the supplies are all gone! I curse under my breath. How could I have been so stupid, took Nath in because he was my district partner just for him to double cross me and knock me out. I scowl a menacing, hating scowl. He will pay for what he has done. My hand dashes to my side for my bow, it's here. At least he left me a small shred of dignity, a tiny sliver of hope and survival. I reach out to my container for my arrows to get some to hunt my prey but as I fish around in it I find nothing inside. Nothing!

I almost scream as I hoist it off my back and find it empty. I doubt he took them with him; he just probably snapped them into tiny shards and buried them. Without arrows my bow is useless, without arrows I am useless too. I might as well snap the stupid thing. I curse. I can recover from the lack of an ally and Nath's betrayal and even having no food, I can gather more even if the few slices of bread I had left won't be here, but I can't recover from a lack of a weapon. I am pretty much stuffed.

I am just about to snap the bow down for firewood when suddenly something flutters into my arms. I bat it away but it just sinks to the ground and I look at it. A parachute! Maybe someone listened to my mental pleas for help after all. I might have arrows! I shove my hand in and tug out what's inside. But instead I find a hammer and a knife. I grimace. Don't my escorts know that I can only use a bow and arrow? Don't they know that I can't fight with these, I'll be useless? What do they want me to do, learn how to use them? I let them drop to the floor but out of the parachute drops a final thing. I hold it up and examine it in the silver glisten of the moon's light. A chisel. Then the gift hits me and I grip the rock by me, flint. They want me to make my own arrows! I smile, I can have as many as I can make, it might gain me sponsors when they see what I can do and also it means that I get the knife, hammer and chisel also as a weapon to protect myself in one on one combat if the time ever comes.

I grimace slightly at the thought and then handle them, I'll start tomorrow. Then suddenly I see the hunger game's logo projected in the sky and leap to my feet. I haven't heard a cannon. Has anyone died? Is Nath dead? Then a face stares up from the sky, a face I never thought I would see. A career. A career died, so the careers have either split from the cornucopia site early or someone got a hack at them. Either way it's a lot easier for me. I smile as I look at the face that has just disappeared from the sky, I smile as I look at the face of Shale Overheart.

**Yeah, Destiny thought she was killing Lainey when she killed Shale and Lainey ran away! I'm sorry creator of Shale but I needed death to keep the story rolling! I have finished Gnawing Hunger but that doesn't mean I have finished. You see, I am doing a sequel to it. But that won't start for a week or so, so you're safe! I really should be revising because I have important exams coming up so you may not get another one of these for a few weeks. Sorry again to the creator of Shale! Oh, and Pokela, I'm not mad at you about Twira. I'm fine with it; I said I accepted tributes that had been in other SYOTs at the beginning so it's fine. Just make sure you don't do that to someone who says they want original tributes or yours could end up dead in the bloodbath! Oh yes, and if you're wondering why everyone keeps on mistaking Nate for Nath it's a personal joke between myself and myself because I used to accidently call Nate Nath and now it has stuck, so Caesar and a few tributes have called him Nath so far and I might jack it up so everyone just calls him Nath just to keep myself happy in an odd way! Oh yes, I have ANOTHER poll up so go and check it out!**


	45. Ash and Tears

_**D**__AY __**S**__EVEN_

**Roderick "Rod" Giffords (D4)**

I reach out towards my water container but Twira slaps my hand away. I growl angrily but I don't want to fight with Twira so I don't try to drink again. I'm really thirsty but Twira seems intent on rationing the water until we reach the lake at the top of the hill which is feeling more and more like a mountain. Everything in this arena seems to be unbalanced, too big to be something but too small to be something else, like testing boundaries. I sigh, that's not the only boundaries that have been tested here. My legs ache and I feel dizzy yet still I press on climbing. Twira and I have been very careful about the path we selected and have only eaten plants which we know are safe, which unfortunately is not a lot. We're careers for goodness sake, not foragers! I know full well that when the career's food pile is destroyed it's usually a tribute from another district that wins, but I can't let that happen, especially since last year a non-career won, two in a row would just be rubbing it in our faces.

I move on angrily, I don't know how we can just leave everything like it doesn't matter, just move on despite all that has happened in these games. I think back to all our allies, it started off in the lunch hall in training. I smile at the memory.

_I hold a tray and look around for somewhere to sit. The tributes from five are sitting together but otherwise everything is pretty jumbled up. My district partner, Lainey, is sitting next to the boy from two, together they are occupying a whole table to themselves, I could always join them. Then before I know it I am being nudged on the arm and I see the girl from two leading a group of both tributes from one towards the table with Lainey and the boy from two. They're the careers, my future allies._

"_We saw you in training, you can handle an axe pretty well." The girl says. I nod politely in recognition, she doesn't seem to be the kind to give out compliments light heartedly._

"_You're not too bad yourself, what weapons can you wield?" I ask her and she grins knowingly._

"_Just about everything." She then sticks out her hand for me to shake, "Twira Hearthright, district two."_

_I grip it firmly, "Rod Giffords, four." She smiles, pausing, for a second before speaking again._

"_Do you want to sit by us?"_

_I barely have to think about it, "Yeah, sounds great."_

_As I follow her I know one thing for sure and I smile happily to myself, I'm in._

The thought of that first day at training keeps me quite happy, though I don't know why. Being in the careers didn't get me that far since the careers this year are weak, really weak. I grimace and push on climbing in silence with Twira, speaking would be a waste in energy, and as I've learnt from being with Twira, with her actions speak stronger than words.

Then, just as I am getting into the jist of things, something stings my shoulder. I jump back and see it is happening to Twira too. I look at her strangely. What's happening? Then I look up and have to shield my eyes from the layer of ash tumbling down from the sky, the ash is attacking.

**Fenora Kensington (D5)**

Lindsey was the first to notice it, a few black flakes, and within a minute it has became a full blown blizzard of ash and soot. I try to breathe desperately but all I can feel is the soot smothering my face and burning my throat, no air, no life. I run towards the pool desperately, or where I think is the pool, but I can't tell because of the arm swarming around me like flies to a carcass on a hot summer day. I bump into something, no, someone, and drag them forwards with me towards the pool of stinking water that has ash floating at the top. All I know is that the Gamemakers must have lit some bonfire to produce all of this ash. But that's not the immediate problem.

I feel the hand, Arc, and then feel the soothing of ice cold. My eyes scream and the water soothes under the constant scratching and pain of the ash but even raising a hand is an effort. I just really hope this is over quickly. I drag Arc forward into the pool and submerge myself in water, dunking us both underneath. I'll only come back up when I need air, and every breath is torture to my lungs. I try not to screech in agony as the ash pours down and I can feel the water beating down above us, heating up. Arc grasps my hand and I manage to maintain the energy to hit his violently. I keep my concentration and try to hold my breath. I feel dizzy and sick and bubbles escape my mouth. I lunge forward to swallow them but only breathe in a mouthful of water which I have to leap up into the air above me not to choke on and then plunge back down with another breath to keep.

I struggle under the heating water but try to stay calm and keep Arc from raising up again and again otherwise his face will get burnt beyond repair. Every trip to the surface may be a relief but it is also a shot of pain across my face. I remember Axel, he can hold his breath under water for long stretches of time, if he made it. And what about Lindsey? Did the two tributes from seven even make it here, especially with Lindsey's weak condition. They could be up there, frying as every touch of ash and soot to their skin is like a thousand insect bites, burning and sucking them until they cannot breathe, the smoke choking them to death. I mustn't think about it, I mustn't, it is too horrible to bear. They're fine, they're always fine. Or are they? I can't believe I care so much, if they die I should be rejoicing, not crying.

I shoot to the surface again but this time when I choke in air I find no ash upon my face. I slowly open an eye and then another. It's gone! It ended as quickly as it started, I'm safe! But what about the others, what about Arc? I push away the thought of leaving him down there to worry himself and plunge back down and tug him up. He resists at first, probably thinking I'm trying to kill him, not noticing that if I wanted to do that I should just keep him down, but when he notices there is no more ash he opens his eyes reluctantly and wipes ash out of his face, a gritty black layer. He leaps up.

"Lindsey? Axel?" he calls desperately and I scan the surroundings, smothered in ash in a matter of minutes. I don't think even Axel could hold his breath for that long. I look around again, nothing. Then suddenly I hear a gasping and someone else bursting out of the water – Lindsey! I run up to her and tug her out, she's breathing but only faintly and she varely looks conscious. Before I think about anything I start ressusitating her, I read a book about it.

"Can I do the kiss of life thing?" Asks Arc and I glare at him. So does Lindsey actually when she chokes up water and pushes me out of the way.

"I think I'd go for drowning rather than have you kiss me." She jokes and Arc looks crestfallen, though I have no idea why. I glare at him and when he glares back I roll my eyes, he just copies me. Typical. But Lindsey's mood has turned back to serious and she struggles to her feet.

"Axel, Axel saved me. I was trying to get to the water and Axel pushed me in."

"Where is he now?" I ask and Lindsey looks down.

"I, he, he went back to help you lot."

There is a pause and then we all direct our eyes to a large lump submerged in ash. I slowly walk forward and turn it around. Axel. I check for a pulse, anything. There is none.

"He can't be dead, there wasn't any cannon fire." I say but Arc shakes his head.

"I think I heard, no, I heard a shot when I was going back up for air. I thought it was you so I gripped your hand to check."

I roll Axel's dead body back around. Axel's dead, that means there are ten of us left, two more and we're in the final eight.

**Destiny Bond (D1)**

I uncurl myself from a ball and choke in air, coughing and rasping. I lived though, I survived. I choke again and see ash pour out of my mouth, that's not good. I feel as if I am on fire, burning on the inside. I feel dizzy and faint as well. I hiss and gulp some water to soothe my burning throat. The cannon shot I heart was definite though, no amount of ash clogging my ears could cover it up, someone else died. Just two more and we're in the final eight; I just hope I'm not next on the hit list. I just hope I'm not on the hit list at all.

I try to breathe properly and eventually the skill of breathing comes, slowly at first, but I regain it soon. I was fast to re-act, I was quick. That saved my life. The question I want to know is if it targeted the whole arena. I want to know if all these traps have targeted the whole arena; the earthquakes and now the rain of ash seem to have been spread throughout the whole arena, but I could be wrong. If it had been the whole arena how come so many people died, but if it hasn't that means that the dead people must have been pretty near me.

I gulp in air again and remain on the floor. Slowly I struggle to my feet. Ever since I killed Shale my accident in a fit of blind fury mistaking him for Lainey I've seemed to have it in for myself. Lainey ran away, probably back to the oasis, while I pressed on. By the time I realized my mistake it was too late, Lainey was already out of range, even if I had a weapon then. Lainey took the two knives. Of course that meant I got a huge carving knife from my sponsors straight after but that wasn't the same, I was actually getting quite attached to that knife after all.

I try to remain calm and examine the surroundings around me, thank goodness my supplies were in a backpack or they would have been ruined. My clothes are riddled with holes but I'm just about intact, my backpack had the worst of it, shielding me from the ash. I pause and rip it open to check my supplies – they're fine. I sigh gratefully, that's good news. Now I have a choice though, i couls stay here and slowly run out of supplies and fend off any mutts that come my way, go back to the oasis and hunt down Lainey who is better armed than me or I could see if i have gone far enough to go around the crevasse and cross into the more fertile land. I barely need to pause, the last option of course. I'm going into the safer, more fertile land. But I'll remain here for the rest of the day. I think about it, almost a week in and we're almost down to the final eight, this has been an eventful 153rd hunger games so far, an eventful one indeed!

**Sorry to axeman2323, the creator of Axel, and sorry to all of you for me keeping killing off the guys, don't blame me, it's just I'm killing off the ones I don't like or I think are likely to go. So yeah, one more tribute dead, the final eight coming up! On request of people I have brought back the caption contest to lengthen your tribute's life! If you have more than one tribute in, say which one you would like to lengthen! These are going to be used within the final eight, so if you win trillions of these and your tribute is still one of the next two to go I'm sorry, it's just the final eight are all tributes I'd be happy to let win!**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are in a library, looking at a book and you find it really interesting. So you put it in your bag and leave. But the detector by the door goes crazy and you realize you haven't scanned it out too late when an angry librarian storms up to you and demands why the detector went crazy. You could always tell the truth and explain that you took an un-scanned book out, but you blurt out the first thing that comes into your head, you say...**

""

**You should remember this one everyone, short and sweet, remember? Ok, well bye, I really won't be able to update this for a week now, I am so sorry though, well anyway, don't forget to enter a crazy caption, even if you don't have a tribute!**

**~SneverusSnapers**


	46. Nightlock

**If all goes to plan the next chapter should bring us into the final eight hopefully, after a death in this chapter! I think a death a chapter is reasonable now since I'm going to shorten it down to a chapter a day soon! This is the end of day seven, I hope you enjoy!**

_**D**__AY __**S**__EVEN_

**Arcturus "Arc" Starre (D5)**

It's getting late. We buried Axel's body under a pile of rocks. The hovercraft can pick him up later, maybe not, maybe they'll keep it there as a to-see sight for the tourists that will flock here in their thousands to see the sights of this year's a hundred and fifty-third hunger games. I feel we should have honoured him more but what can we do? He's dead, I'm not. It's just not working here. This is the hunger games, Fenora said we shouldn't have even buried him at all but Lindsey soon bit back and fought Fenora into submission. I would have never thought that Lindsey was the type to be uncharacteristically ferocious, but when she waved her spear in the air at Fenora even I was frightened, and that doesn't happen very much.

I find my eyes drifting to the sky in both night and day. And when it is night I think of myself but when it is day I find myself wondering after Circe, thinking about how she is faring, if she even understands what is going on here. But all thoughts to Circe seem to have sunk, like that was another life I led, another world, not now, not here, not me. Yet it was me, it is me. She is my friend even if she feels so afar it's almost frightening.

I look up at Fenora who is moodily chomping berries from our stack, barely even bothering to check them. I think about calling out to warn her but I see Lindsey is checking them first – that's ok then. Lindsey has regained most of her energy, but just as she was about to heal psychologically Axel died. He was her district partner and they had grown quite close, it's sad to think about how she must feel; in fact it is really actually very upsetting. I can't imagine myself being too devastated if Fenora died, but she and Axel were close, maybe a bit too close for these games. At least one advantage came from Axel's death – I got his axe. So far I have relied on a sharpened stick to use to defend myself but now I have an axe and while it may not be the best weapon for me it's a weapon none the less.

Then suddenly a shriek pierces through the night sky and I look at Lindsey who is paralysed with fear. I rush forward, asking her, yelling at her, screeching at her, to tell me what's wrong. Then I notice. Fenora has gone pale, deathly pale. And the berry clenched in her hand is none other than Nightlock, the deadliest poison known to Panem. And the berry cleched in her hands has a small bite out of it.

"Fenora!" I yell and dash over to her, Lindsey frozen with fear, "Fenora!"

I run over and examine her, "You didn't swallow it, please tell me you didn't swallow it." I gabble.

"I swallowed it." Fenora says bluntly and I look desperately at the berry.

"It's only a nibble, you'll be fine, really, you'll be fine."

Fenora just looks at me and shakes her head, then slowly dictates something slowly and carefully, from memory."Nightlock, a deadly poison. If consumed it stops your breathing and numbs you to any pain, killing you instantly. Even if you could survive long enough there is no known antidote to such a poison. In the Dark Days rebels used nightlock to kill honourable citizens of the Capitol. No matter how small a piece you consume it means certain death, the smaller the amount of poison just prolongs the inevitable death and brings suffering to the individual. If they eat a miniscule amount of poison the first symptom they will possess is that they will break out into a sweat."

I see Fenora's skin, seemingly brought to life by her words, clam up and become sweaty and she clenches tightly onto her fists, but speaks as in pain through clenched teeth, her eyes wincing against the lowering light, "Then they will feel excruciatingly pain until they cannot feel anymore, just a numbness. Then slowly the numbness will embrace them and they will find themselves sinking to the floor, unable to support themselves."

I catch Fenora as she collapses and I don't notice Lindsey slowly edging towards me.

"No." I croak and then scream in anger, "NO!"

"This is when, if you ever are near a patient who possesses these symptoms, you should get anything off your chest that they need to know because either they will drift into a coma, with a 0.01% chance success rate or they will die. The patient gets to choose somehow, but no-one has ever woken from one of these comas, even from the best Capitol medicine available." Fenora stutters, her voice barely a raspy whisper.

"You can't die Fenora, you can't." I hiss and I see Fenora raise an eyebrow, just like her to be like that on her death bed. But I get the message, _why_.

"Because, because, because I love you." I stammer and when it escapes my mouth I know it's true. Well, maybe not love exactly, but definitely strong feelings. I may act like I hate her and that she's the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but that is far from true. I stare helplessly at Fenora and with one final roll of her eyes she is gone, dead, cannon fire.

I step back and see Lindsey's face. She was checking the berries, she was the one that let the Nightlock through. Then a thought strikes my stomach. What if, what if it was intentional? What is=f she meant to kill Fenora?

"You killed her! You meant to, you murdered her!" I yell and Lindsey's face pales.

"I didn't, I didn't know. Honestly, I swear." She stammers but I shake my head. She's lying, she has to be. I can tell from her worried face and sweating palms.

"Liar!" I yell and I lob my axe right at her. She shrieks and ducks with just milliseconds to spare and the axe sticks into the tree behind her. By the time I have carefully prised the sword out of Fenora's belt Lindsey has gone and has taken the axe and the tarpaulin with her. But that doesn't matter, I have the supplies and a weapon, I'll live this out and take revenge on Lindsey if she ever comes my way.

**Lainey Rain (D4)**

I sigh as I collapse back into the cool pools of the oasis. I wonder who died earlier, oh well, I'll find out soon enough if I can stay awake in time. I know nowhere in the arena is safe but at least this moderately fits the bill. This is something you can just about get away with. I sigh with yet more contentment as the cool water soothes my burnt feet. Walking barefoot in the desert may be preferable to walking with boiling trainers on, but still it means that they get burnt easier and the ash didn't exactly help. So now the water is soothing my light burns while a cheap ointment is tending to my more serious ones, but it may be cheap but I know it must have cost a lot for my sponsors.

I slowly rotate my foot in the water, feeling the water sooth it and make it feel better. But I see something strange in the dying light on my foot, something moving. I slowly and carefully examine the outline of a long bug, almost the size and shape of a centipede but more maggot-like, that is crawling across my leg. Thinking about it, my leg does feel strange. I slowly draw my hand back and bring is crashing down on the creature but when I pull it back up all I can feel my hand has hit is skin. But then I realise – this wormlike creature, this parasite, in under my skin. And it is moving up my leg. I try desperately not to panic. But what else can I do?

Just take a calm breath, breathe slowly. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. PANIC! I frantically swipe one of my knives from by belt and hold it above my leg where the parasite has wormed its way up to. Can I do this? Could I do this? I freeze – I do it. The knife slices through my skin with an unbearable stinging like I am being attacked by a swarm of trackerjackers. I clench my teeth and my eyes shut and I use both knives to fish out the parasite form inside me. The moment it touches the ground it tries to burrow under the sand but I throw a knife and it catches its tail. I slowly fish the other end out with a knife and then stab it viciously until I am pretty sure it is dead. I pause, the hunger may be getting the better of me but could I reset to eating a wormy parasite? I pause at the thought, parasite or hunger, parasite or hunger. I'll choose hunger for the moment, but just in case I'll have the parasite on standby so I leave it's carcass by the side of the water as I quickly hook my feet out to make sure I don't catch anything else in there and curl up in a ball, wrapping my arms around myself to keep myself warm. This is going to be one long night.

**Lindsey Grey (D7)**

I started off by sprinting but couldn't keep that up for too long so finally settled on a steady jog. Eventually I find I have to stop though and look back over my shoulder, panting. I made it. Maybe I only made it with the tarpaulin, an axe, my spear and a sneaky handful of berries alongside an extra water container that belonged to Axel and one of Arc's fish that I cooked, but I made it anyway. I think back to Arc's distraught face and Fenora's dying body. I can't believe I did that to her, I didn't mean to. I was sure I checked that berry; I was sure that all of the others like it were safe; they showed no signs of acidity and actually seemed to smell quite nice. So why was one of them poisonous while the others weren't? Fenora ate them as well. It must be a Gamemaker trick – we convinced ourselves that the Gamemakers were leaving us alone while really they riddled our food supply with Nightlock and covered our food with acid. After a careful thought I check my handful of berries, no, these aren't Nightlock, these are safe.

Then I see Fenora's face suddenly in sky followed by Axel's. I can't help but feel extreme guilt. I killed her, she died because of me. And the same with Axel, he died saving me. What kind of monster am I, what kind of monster have I become? Before I can feel anything else I feel a sudden wave of tiredness come over me and I hurriedly hitch myself up a tree. I don't trust trees so I tie myself in so I can stay up there and won't fall out. It was bad enough that a tree fell onto me, it would be even worse if I fell out of a tree onto the ground. But I feel I am safe, for a bit. Fenora and Axel just died. They just died because of me.

**OK, sorry for the delay. I had exams, and I just started the sequel to Gnawing Hunger called Shattered Hearts, and I have been very stressed. But exams are over and all is well! Now – caption contests! Here is the next one first:**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are in the middle of a French lesson when you suddenly find you are desperate for the toilet. You shoot your hand up and the teacher asks you what you want and then suddenly you gabble out...**

""

**The winner of the last caption contest was (drum roll please) *drum roll***

**...**

**Annika! (Who chose to back Twira) If you enter and you don't have a tribute in here choose a tribute to back! Remember – if they are the next to die it's not my fault, but once they're in the final eight it counts!**

**Here is Annika's winning caption:**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are in a library, looking at a book and you find it really interesting. So you put it in your bag and leave. But the detector by the door goes crazy and you realize you haven't scanned it out too late when an angry librarian storms up to you and demands why the detector went crazy. You could always tell the truth and explain that you took an un-scanned book out, but you blurt out the first thing that comes into your head, you say...**

**"LOOK! It's a pterodactyl!" *when she looks where I pointed, I steal her lunch then run***

**=D Some things you lot come up with are so random! – I love it! =D**

**I would write the tribute list out but I can't be bothered, if you want to know look at the last one and deduct Axel and Fenora and whoever else died since then! Sorry to the creator of Fenora – just I had to have her go the same way as foxface, her ancestor, and anyway, it's a better death then what happens when it gets to the final eight because there will be a huge massacre...**

**~SneverusSnapers**


	47. The Final Eight

_**D**__AY __**E**__IGHT_

**Twira Hearthright (D2)**

I'm woken up by another Earthquake. I couldn't get to sleep because the earth kept on shaking wildly. We even had another appearance of the ash, but it was light and although it lasted for longer than a few minutes it wasn't as heavy as last time so nothing was damaged. I don't know what the Gamemakers are playing at, making the ground and skies go haywire, but I know it can't be good. Whatever the Gamemakers do can't be good.

I see Rod sleeping and think about the knife tucked into my belt. Should I? Should I do it? Should I do it now? Should I kill him? The thought strikes nothing within me, no pain, no hidden emotion, nothing. Nothing at all. All I feel is wonder, fascination maybe. No guilt or worry. Just thoughts, cold, ferocious, vicious thoughts, weighing up the pros and cons. Should I kill him though? If so – why? I balance up the thoughts in my head into a neat little table with sections for and against killing him.

For Killing Rod – he is the enemy, only one of us can survive and that is going to be me. Rod might turn against me and if that happens I might die and I cannot risk that. It is getting late into the games, soon there will only be us three left. I already know where the water should be, I don't need him. But what if he's wrong and there is no water there? I try not to think about that though. Then I move onto reasons against killing him.

Against Killing Rod – he's got knowledge that I need if he turns out to be wrong and even if he is right he knows how to live off the water. It isn't even the final eight. I cannot expect to be thought of well by my sponsors if I kill my only ally now; and what if I need him for his strength or something, not that it even equals mine, but I might need a hand if something is too much for one person alone.

I place the thoughts into my mind, organising them carefully and analysing each point in detail. Finally I come to a decision. I will not kill Rod. I will not kill Roderick Giffords. Yet.

**Thistle Clay (D11)**

I work on my arrows. They're far from perfect. Most of them are slightly bent and might not work well but they're arrows none the less. In one day I have only managed to make seven but the seven I have made are just about passable, they work. I don't remember making arrows before except a brief talk on training. I was on the arrow station, slipping up on purpose so not to get people's attention, when the instructor came up to me and showed me how to model an arrow. I think he knew I was faking it and missing on purpose because the ones I did try on I got bulls-eye or roundabouts and I probably got that more than luck would allow. That's probably how he sussed it out. Anyway, I saw him once and that was enough for it to engrave itself into the back of my memory. I am so thankful to him for showing me that. He was one of the few Capitol people I actually like. I certainly don't like my escort. He has absolutely no idea what he is doing. I guess that's just the same with pretty much all Capitol people. They're like sheep, following the herd.

I carefully place my ninth arrow into my sheath with pride. At least Nate, or rather, Nath, left me the sheath to keep the arrows in. But really, if I catch him I will kill him this time. No special feelings because he is in my district, none at all. He will die at my hands, or rather my bow and my arrows made by my hands. I am pretty sure that because of him I am wiped out of sponsor gifts. All because of him. I grit my teeth angrily as I think of his smug face as he knocks me out. I really do despise him.

But then I see something out of the corner of my eye. It is mid-day. It's probably the sunlight playing tricks on me. But no. I see it again. Nate Morgue. Him. Here. Now.

Now is the time to kill him. I leap to my feet in an instant, whipping up my bow and notching an arrow right at his heart. He stands there within my range, staring at me mortified. Yet with that shock comes that smug look, hinted on his face. Taunting me, saying that I cannot do it. I cannot kill him. Well he's wrong and I will wipe that smug look off his face once and for all. He flicks out his knife menacingly towards me, though he masks it by an innocent face and manages to croak out a few words.

"Please don't kill me Thistle."

But I know that tactic, mentioning I am going to kill him and using my name. It's a guilt trip. But I don't fall for traps, I set them.

"You watch me." I snarl and then let the arrow fly loose, aimed straight for his heart.

**Nate Morgue (D11)**

I try to swerve out of the way and am only partially successful as I suddenly find the flint meets cloth and it rips through it like paper and plunges into my skin. I shriek madly as the arrow enters the old wound that Mitchel gave me in my shoulder when we were fighting over Willow. Thistle props up her bow and reaches back for another arrow to finish me off. I can't have that, I don't want to die. I want to see Isabella again, I want to live. And to live I have to kill Thistle. So be it.

Just as Thistle is re-notching her arrow onto her bow I charge forward and grasp the bow with my hands and then with all my might I scream a war cry as I shudder and shake as the bow slowly bends, splintering in my very hands. My strength comes as a great shock to me. I can't believe it. I feel my life force ebbing out of me through my shoulder but like a possessed demon I snarl in a demented sneer and snap the bow in two. I barely have time to register Thistle's gasps as I find my knife plunging in Thistle repetitively. Again and again and again. Red. Blood red. A single tear wells up in my eye as if a trapped part of my conscience is screaming to be let go, released from this inhuman outer shell. Yet I cannot release it. In a single decision I have become condemned forever.

I barely hear the cannon shot ringing through my ears as I feel my sanity slowly regaining to myself, despite my mad frenzied struggle to keep it hidden like someone would do to a nasty stain. Somehow I manage to push it back and my vision still growls with red. Red, the colour of blood. Red, the colour of the hunger games. Red, the colour of madness. Then the first suddenly seeps through my shirt and I collapse to the floor, desperate, gripping onto life by its bare threads. I have to survive, I must survive. I press both of the spare bits of cloth I have to my chest in desperation to keep the wound clean and clear but I don't remove the arrow. I daren't remove the arrow. But it hurts. It hurts so much.

Despite the current situation I laugh a maniacal laugh as the realisation comes to me of what has just happened. The final eight! I've made it to the final eight! It may not look like I'm going to make it until the final seven but I still made it, I made it to the final eight!

**To clarify what happened in this chapter – Nate went crazy and killed Thistle. But will he regain his sanity? Will he realize what he has done, and will he survive the wound sticking out of him? So sorry to 'ecto90210 and lozzie123', the creator/s of Thistle. Just pipped at the post to get into the final eight! I hope you keep on reading though, since Thistle, alongside all of the dead tributes, will be mentioned later, and of course so shall our victor! It was a hard decision, killing Thistle off. But she's wounded Nate badly. How badly shall be discovered later!**

**Pokela, if you are talking to me, not Annika, then yes, I do have a proper story. You have no doubt heard me waffling of about Gnawing Hunger and its new sequel and prequel, Shattered Hearts and Falling For Him, but really, I suggest you just read a bit. Also I have a forum with a one-shot challenge in which there are several different titles for one-shots which you use to write a one-shot with. It's great fun and if you're interested the link's on my forum! Anyone can have a go as long as they have an account and if you don't – make one! Oh yes, and I am sorry if you got upset about the Brin thing, i will not mention it any more. i was not upset, I thought it was funny, especially the review I read that you left to Momo going "No! Change it to Brin - SneverusSnapers might get mad!". Because I'm not that ind of person, even if I may seem like that. So - sorry.**

**The winner of last week's caption contest is 'arcticmist', whose caption contest was so random it topped the rest and my reply to it by PM was quite simply: "WHAT!" So here it is!**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are in the middle of a French lesson when you suddenly find you are desperate for the toilet. You shoot your hand up and the teacher asks you what you want and then suddenly you gabble out...**

"**Bonjour, I am in need of a potty."**

**Seriously? Now you lot do come up with some WEIRD things! ^_^**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are in the middle of a sack race in sports day when suddenly you realise you're going to lose unless you cheat. Of course you could do the normal method of cheating, but you're a bit thick so it comes to the race and once the whistle is blown you...**

**Good luck with that! Pretty much all of these are based on real life situations for me, such as me having a really bad day and me doing the sack race in sports day.**

**As you can see pretty much all of the alliances have crumbled, but never fear, there will be more made later on, though the rest of the games will be a bloodthirsty massacre, I can assure you of that!**

**As asked, I have FINALLY come up with the tribute list:**

District One – Luxury Goods

BOY Tournaline "Tour" Solier X _(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Destiny Bond**

District Two – Weapons, Peacekeepers +Architecture

BOY Shale Overheart X_(Destiny Bond)_

**GIRL Twira Hearthright **_(Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Three - Electronics

BOY Cole Dallan X_ (_Gamemaker Trap)

GIRL Quazza Willowwhisper X_ (Cole Dallan)_

District Four - Fishing

**BOY Roderick "Rod" Giffords**_ (Twira Hearthright)_

**GIRL Lainey Rain**

District Five - Science

**BOY Arcturus "Arc" Starre**

GIRL Fenora Kensington_X (Lindsey Grey)_

District Six - Medicine

BOY Brink Freeman X (_Thistle Clay_)

GIRL Reena Woodson X _(Lusa Canvis)_

District Seven - Lumber

BOY Axel Leaf X (_Gamemaker Trap)_

**GIRL Lindsey Gray**

District Eight - Textiles

BOY Robert Tars X (_Tournaline "Tour" Solier_)

GIRL Tessinal "Tess" Carter X (_Roderick "Rod" Giffords)_

District Nine – Food Processing

BOY Dallas Starconn_X (Twira Hearthright)_

GIRL Lusa Canvis X _(Mutts_)

District Ten - Livestock

BOY Mitchel Rye X _(Mutts)_

**GIRL Willow Grams**

District Eleven - Agriculture

**BOY Nate Morgue**

GIRL Thistle Clay X_ (Nate Morgue)_

District Twelve – Coal Mining

BOY Braxlin Coal_ X (Lainey Rain)_

GIRL Match Lyte X (_Twira Hearthright_)


	48. Gamemaker Meeting II

**It's the much anticipated Gamemaker chapter! After this we might have some interviews from the remaining tribute's friends and family. What do you say? Tell me what you think!**

**Gamemakers**

**SneverusSnapers = Sneverus (Head Gamemaker) – tries to control. Female.**

**Let the foxx fly = Foxx (Deputy Head Gamemaker X 1) – hyper, very hyper. Female.**

**LiquoriceWhip = Whip (Deputy Head Gamemaker X 2) – doesn't pay attention, eats liquorice. Female.**

**BowsandArrows435 = Bows (Gamemaker) – Always falling asleep, virtually twins with moo. Male.**

**Momoloveslife5th-6th = Moo (Gamemaker) – Always falling asleep, virtually twins with bows. Female.**

**PS Weatherill = PS (Gamemaker) – very romantic, weird and soppy, always writing romantic poems and letters. Male.**

**Girl L0ves Doom = Doom (Gamemaker) – the serious one. Female.**

**Pattyo123 = Patty (Gamemaker) – Patty is always trying to get the others to be fit and no exercise. Female.**

**AlwaysHasAPlan = Plan (Gamemaker) – plan always has a plan, though not always a good one. Female.**

**ThisbeSolo = Solo (Gamemaker) – scheming and slightly psychopathic and with a love of torture and blood. Female.**

Sorry if I got your gender wrong or your characteristics – but this is the Gamemaker version of yourself. Oh yeah, and bows and moo will probably end up kissing! ^_^ Just because I know you two know each other and I want to have something interesting going on in the gamemakers room, just random stuff! Sorry in advance...

* * *

><p><em><span>Gamemaker meeting – secret location – Betty's Salon, the Capitol<span>_

Sneverus, clearly distraught, paces up and down the back supply room of Betty's salon. Ned the chippie's aunt had come up with a serious cough last minute so Sneverus had to resort to... them.

Sneverus surveys the bunch of Gamemakers hastily crammed into the supply room and shakes her head in distaste. Her two deputies, Whip and Foxx are playing a game of Russian roulette with live ammunition for a dare by Moo and Bows who are egging them on competitively, PS is composing a romantic poem, Patty is jumping up and down energetically, doing star jumps in the confined space with Solo and Plan sitting quietly in the corner with a can of corned beef between them and large maps of the arena spread out on the floor. Doom enters the room and massages her temples to try and calm herself down a bit. Sneverus sighs dramatically, swipes the gun away from Foxx's head making it fire into the ceiling, the actual bullet this time, and crouches down by Solo and Plan.

"Hows it going?" Sneverus hisses at them as tries to ignore the newfound fascination Foxx and Whip have discovered about firing at the ceiling which is now littered with holes and a large chunk of plaster fly down, knocking PS unconscious which causes a huge cheer from Bows and Moo together as PS stops dictating his stupid poem about 'the furthest star which is more fiery than the lightest sun which causes you to cartwheel across its flame inflicted brow'. After Sneverus reads a few words she shudders in distaste and looks at Always who is just finishing off speaking.

"-so therefore according to psychological impulses is correct in every size, form and manner there will be an optimum success rate."

"So it'll work?" Sneverus asks bluntly and Solo lets off a maniacal cackle.

"It'll work all right, it will work!" Solo giggles as if she just made a hilarious joke, "The blood will spill, the blood will flow, the blood will pour-"

"Ok, ok. I get it." Sneverus hurriedly interrupts Solo from her rant. When Sneverus turns around she sees Bows kiss Moo on the cheek.

"Wait just one tiddly-winking second, what! I thought you were related or something!" Sneverus yelps, surprised.

"Um... no." Both Moo and Bows say at the same time, look at each other and burst out laughing into a bit of giggles. Foxx joins in too.

"hah hah hah hah! What are we laughing about again?" Foxx giggles playfully.

"Please quieten your speaking apparatus everyone! I have an announcement to make!" Calls PS mightily, stepping up dazed from the floor, "I have seen a strange vision while the stars danced around my head in the eternal black, blanketed like the universe, the stars mere holes, glimpses of the truth beyond. A white truth, a pure truth, a-"

There is a loud bang and then suddenly PS gasps as he looks down at his chest and sees a huge hole ripped through the centre of it. Sneverus whips her head around to see Solo holding the gun high up in the air with a mad grin on her face.

"I just wanted the pleasure of doing that myself."

"OI!" A yell echoes around Betty's supply room and Patty steps forward into the silence with the odd mutter of 'fat penguin' from Bows and Moo, "No, no, no! You have got it all wrong! When you aim you have to be careful not to cock the handle too much, you got a reasonable shot as it was but you really need to be sure next time otherwise you'll get off target and that breaches just about every health and safety code there is."

"What does health and safety mean?" chips in Foxx.

Plan rolls her eyes, "for goodness sake, can't we knuckle down here?"

This causes an 'awkward turtle' from Foxx who then decides to do a rather bad impression of a Mexican jellyfish. An impression that goes badly wrong. Again.

"FINALLY! Someone who agrees with me on something!" Doom bursts out from picking at hair lotions of display and marking the ones in red permanent marker that are out of date. There is a lot of red permanent marker.

"Listen people, calm down. We need to talk about serious and important things." Sneverus interrupts.

"PS has been shot and is dead." Whip says.

"I said serious and IMPORTANT Whip, that's not important!" Hisses Sneverus.

"Ahah! That's where you're wrong!" Cries PS and leaps up from the ground, intact. He reaches his hand into his jacket and withdraws a stack of papers with a bullet jammed into them, stopped at the last page. "A miraculous thing happened! The bullet, by pure coincidental chance, hit these papers, letters from my darling love, instead of hitting me. It does show that love always prevails and that no matter what, no matter how much destiny tries to get in your way, love will always come out-

"Oh shut up!" Yells Foxx and fires the other gun at PS, causing him to crumple on the ground, really dead this time and no chance of ever seeing anything ever again.

"Right, back to the things that matter." Doom says, back on the subject, breaking the silence instead of a 'fat penguin' this time.

"Doodles?"

"Fitness?"

"Sleep?"

"More sleep?"

"Blood?"

"Liquorice?"

"Nose surgery?"

"Planning?"

"Poetry?"

"What!" Doom yelps as PS springs back to his feet with 'poetry'. As he rummages in his pockets and brings out a ring that looks surprisingly like an engagement ring that has just been hit by a bullet saving a horrific poet's life, Doom quickly shakes her head hurriedly before he starts speaking, "Never mind, never mind. No, what matters is hard work. But Plan was the closest, we have a cunning plan that cannot fail."

"More cunning than Cunning McCunning of Cunning University, Cunningbridge, Cunning street, born in Cunningtown, the lord of Cunningland and the master of all things cunning?" Cuts in Foxx.

"Yes." Sighs Doom, "Now over to Plan."

"That's cunning!" mutters Foxx under her breath.

"You all have no doubt been listening to this whole meeting so you will all know the plan." Plan points out, "Well were you listening?"

There are several chorus shouts of 'yes, of course we know the plan and we listening'!

"So we're ready?" Sneverus asks and Plan nods, confirming that.

"Well then," Sneverus says, pulling in a microphone before she flicks it on, "We better put out the bait, see which little fishies bite."

**That was your lovely random Gamemaker chapter! I hoped you liked it and enjoyed the characters – I certainly enjoyed killing PS off multiple times! I will keep the caption contest open for longer. But I want to see if you can spot the quote from the pirates of the carribean. It's a bar scene where there is a fight and Norrington is there and Elizabeth knocks Norrington out (I don't own that either, unfortunately). So I want to see if you can find the quote from that hidden in here! Thanks! Have fun,**

**~SneverusSnapers**


	49. The Clock Is Ticking

_**D**__AY __**E**__IGHT_

**Willow Grams (D10)**

I did it. Thank the tributes I did it. I crossed through the desert with just one bottle of water and a handful of supplies. I'm fine. I'm safe. But there's one trifling problem – the huge crevasse stretching out for miles either side of me. I've reached the thinnest point but I don't want to jump it, I really don't. I don't think I have enough supplies to continue all the way around though. I try to gulp in a breath and swing my arms back ready to jump when something catches my eye and I have to rotate my body, using my momentum to knock me back onto the sun baked sands below me. It's something in the crevasse, inside it.

I lean forward slowly, nudging slightly to the edge and look down. Inside the crevasse is something, and it's caught. I let a slow smile creep onto my lips when I realise what it is. It's a bridge of some sort. At first I'm overjoyed, all I have to do is get it and I'm safe. But then realisation slowly creeps up to me. Someone else has been here; I won't be as free as I thought before. But it looks like they've long gone. If they thought they were coming back they would have left the bridge to pass on. Maybe they did. But I doubt that, they wouldn't be able to reach it from that side. I'm unsure if they're able to reach it from this side. I try to keep my feelings inside me and to stop them brimming out. Yes, all I have to do is get them.

I fall down onto my belly and wriggle forward like a snake, careful not to overbalance my weight and send me toppling down the crevasse. I find I can barely breathe and I feel dizzy as I stare down into the seemingly bottomless void. I shuffle forward slightly, feeling the gravity trying to tug me down. I know what people back home in district ten used to say, you should never try to defy gravity. But here I am, trying to do exactly what they told me not to. I remember what they said about the hunger games – lie low, keep calm, be secretive. Like that's going to happen now. Everything is so confusing; I give up trying to think about it and decide to tackle the job at hand.

My hand catches the rope which is binding the bridge together and I suddenly tug it up. As if the very heavens have it in for me the planks which make up the bridge unlatch and then tumble down into the crevasse below out of sight. I find it hard not to scream. Now all I have is a useless piece of rope. What use is that? Then suddenly an idea hits me and a small smile creeps onto my face, probably for the benefit of the cameras and also for me so I can uplift my spirits. Yes this could actually work.

I praise the idiotic rope tutor in training and loop together some sort of lasso he showed me how to use and slowly pace across the side of the crevasse until I spot a withered tree hanging over the other side of the gap. It isn't perfect but it could be worse. I sigh and throw the loop at the tree. It misses. I do it again. Another miss. And another and another and another; how many misses am I getting here? Then just as I am about to give up I pull it back in and it has caught. I grimace and bend down to dig a slight hole in the sand with my fingers. I feel the sand get colder as I burrow deeper and when I think it is just about stable I push the spare end of the rope in and pack the sand tightly back on top.

I only get some regrets when I find myself jumping onto the rope and a definite creak. I cling on as if it was for my life which it actually is and I slowly shimmy across the rope. I've heard of rope burn but nothing prepared me for this. My hands, legs and just about any bit of clear skin has become bright red and raw but I shouldn't be thinking of that now, I have more urgent matters at hand such as the fact I'm hanging over a bottomless crevasse with only my arms for support. Suddenly it isn't seeming like such a great idea. But I defeat my fear and creep along the rope until I feel a definite death sentence coming along and I manage to swing off and land on the other side, teetering over the edge. I fall forward into muddy earth and spit out a mouthful which unfortunately contains some sort of worm which makes me spit out even more of the dirt I seem to have inhaled.

Eventually I struggle up to my feet with a dazed expression on my face and then wink subtly, that might get me a sponsor or two. I struggle forward and unhook the rope and then loop it to a tree on top of a large rock to give me some height if I need a quick getaway and have to shimmy again so I'll be doing it downhill this time instead of up. After a final choke of earth and a quick swig of water I stumble off to find out if there really is any water around here.

**Arcturus "Arc" Starre (D5)**

The static on the microphone crackles around the arena and immediately I know that something big is happening. As if on cue I hear the voice of our new presenter for this year of the a hundred and fifty third hunger games, Maya Scuttle. Maya's soft het menacing voice echoes around the arena, reaching every nook and cranny. Yes, this seems right. They're going to try and coax us together, bring us as one. I'm not going though; I'm not falling for it. Unless they have something good on offer, unless what they say is genuine. And as I hear the beautiful voice of Maya I feel my senses melting down and my heartbeat slowing. Her voice is gentle and sweet, trustworthy.

"Hello all of you darling tributes, I hope you're well." The voice echoes and I find myself nodding compliantly. "Well I hope so because I have some news for you lot. The Gamemakers and I have decided to make your life easier in there because we really care about you."

I find myself smiling, Maya cares about me. No-one ever cares about me, I doubt I have a sponsor yet she cares about me and she's going to help me.

"We've decided to help you out, lift the burden so to speak. It has come to my attention that some of you unhappy duckies seem to be running out of food so I have managed to sweet talk a few Gamemakers and get you a nice juicy feast."

A feast? I don't know, though my supplies are dwindling and I don't want to have to resort to the items I am unsure of.

"It will be held inside the hollow giant redwood at the base of the... plateau. And don't forget, this decision could mean life or death to you, so choose wisely."

I barely need to think about it. I charge over to my supplies, Maya is right. She wants to look after me, to protect me and if the only way to do that is to go to the base of the plateau then so be it. Another slight earthquake shakes me but I ignore it, I have become accustomed to the ground's odd movements recently. I try not to snort; this will be easy and then start to go off. Just before I go though I look up at the plateau and I manage to see the giant redwood at the base of it. I think I can see a crack like an entrance into it and I image what it will be like for me when I go into there.

"One more thing, the feast will be held tomorrow night, you have twenty-four hours to get there. Hurry up, the clock is ticking."

**Roderick "Rod" Giffords (D4)**

Twira doesn't even stop walking for the whole of the announcement and continues as if nothing happened, even when a giant twenty four hour countdown clock to the very millisecond is projected in the sky.

"At least we'll be able to tell the time, huh?" I say but Twira just glares and storms on.

"So we're not going then?" I ask, trying again and Twira rolls her eyes.

"It will probably be a stale loaf of bread they will be fighting over and I very much doubt we would get anything much if it was real, there would be different alliances."

"Stronger alliances?" I question and see it seems to pull something in Twira.

"No, not stronger, think about it though, we will probably be better off is there is a lake on top of the plateau." Twira snaps.

"What if there isn't?" I ask and within a tiny millisecond counted on the giant clock projected above our heads I feel Twira's knife edge up close to my throat and slowly draw a thin line of blood across it.

"If there isn't then you die."

Then Twira whips her knife away and tucks it up her sleeve like nothing happened at all and hikes on up the almost mountain side. I know I shouldn't speak but I just have something I need to say.

"One last thing, I promise," I say, causing an angry glare from Twira, "Why here, why on the half plateau half mountain thing? I mean, they could have put it anywhere at all in the arena, they probably could have put it by the Cornucopia so why here?"

"Why here?" asks Twira.

"Yeah, why here." I say.

"Rod."

"Yes?"

"I have no idea, but-"

"But?"

"We'll find out soon enough."

"How?"

"The clock is ticking Rod, the clock is ticking."

**Ok, that was quite a key chapter there, 'The Clock is Ticking'. Thanks for Arcticmist for being persistent about their feast that they wanted and hey presto, we have a feast. The 153rd hunger games does seem quite random, but it was because it was going to be the 53rd and then I had to change it so I didn't have to use all of the old characters.**

**I am SO sorry to Arcticmist and beanrocks, two of my lovely Gamemakers who I didn't put into the last chapter quite simply because I forgot and any others of you. I am so sorry and a total idot – do not blame me, well yes do, but try not to do it. Oh yes, and lacrossefreak100: Fenora died, get over it and give me nice reviews ;D. I would have killed her off in the bloodbath if it wasn't for her being an ancestor of Foxface and me wanting to give her a more ironic death so keep your chin up and please stop going on about it. No offence intended and I don't want to seem mean, just telling you to stop reviewing everything I have written saying you are angry, please? For all who wanted to know, in the last chapter the quote from Pirates of the Caribbean was "I just wanted to have the pleasure of doing that myself" and that got me onto the crazy caption for this week.**

**Here is this week's new caption contest:**

**CRAZY CAPTION: In the future you will be in a bar, as you do, and you won't get kicked out like you normally do because you will be really annoying. So when an old enemy comes in you decide to stir some things up in there and they don't recognise you, so you go up to them and say...**

**Hope you like it, the winner of the last caption contest was (and it was crazy)...**

**Let the Foxx fly!**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are in the middle of a sack race in sports day when suddenly you realise you're going to lose unless you cheat. Of course you could do the normal method of cheating, but you're a bit thick so it comes to the race and once the whistle is blown you...**

**Yell, "That's an odd place to put a banana farm," then as everyone looks around, you sprint for the finish line!**

**Yup, short sweet and simple. I just can't wait for the massacre! The games will be over in a few days, yes, I'm killing pretty much everyone off in one fell swoop! ;D**

**~SnevSnap**


	50. The Second Bloodbath

_**D**__AY __**N**__INE_

**Lainey Rain (D4)**

I wake up with a spring in my step. Today; later today. Later today I will be at the feast and will no longer have to even think about eating random parasites that suck beneath my skin and into my legs, instead I will have an abundance of food. Instead I will win these games, even if it means entering another bloodbath, the second bloodbath. But I survived the first so I see no problem.

I smile leaps to my face and I can't help keeping it despite my current situation. I have seven other people out to get me and all I can think of is how I am going to beat all of them. I try to wash back the face of the boy from twelve by a quick glug of water from the Oasis I have scooped up by my hands. By now the iodine has got to work and I'm ready to go off and beat up any tribute who so much as inches their way towards the Cornucopia.

"Lainey Rain, district four's newest victor." I muse on my voice, letting the words roll across my tongue as I set off across the desert, my strides taking me into a steady stroke. Wow. That makes me feel an awful lot better. Lainey Rain; me, a victor. It always seemed like a distant dream in my mind and yet here I am, just seven deaths away from my victory. I think about it, people, children, die every day. So why am I so upset, so hit by everything that is happening here? These people chose to enter. Well actually no, they didn't. I chose to enter as did Destiny and the boy from one, her district partner. I think about him, Tour, yes, Tour Solier. I remember him joking and messing around at lunch while the rest of us sat almost stonily silent. I think Twira took an automatic disliking to him and I remember her pulling Destiny forward afterwards and whispering a few secretive words into her ear and I swear that I remember seeing a name, his name, being mouthed from Twira's mouth to his ear.

Then Destiny killed him in the bloodbath. Coincidence? Maybe, but I don't think so. Somehow I feel that Twira has been masterminding us all along, stringing us up like puppets for her command only. But what she doesn't understand is that these puppets are real, these puppets fight back. I just hope for her sake that she doesn't turn up at the Cornucopia. Her or any of her stupid puppets. There's Rod, he seems so shallow, her dependant right hand man. Like he feels nothing for her, nothing at all. Or any of us for that matter. He's like a loyal dog; just I wonder how much longer that loyalty will last. Then Destiny. I thought Destiny had more class than that, I thought Destiny had standards. I think her life before this has been messed up enough for her, yet she proceeds with challenging it even more, pushing yet more boundaries. I can't help feeling sorry for her even though I hate her guts.

Then last of all there's Twira. Darling Twira, the mastermind behind it all. This year's careers have been weak, there's no doubting that. We've had a joker who died in the bloodbath, an orphan girl who wasn't trained properly, an almost weak minded boy who never put himself across enough, a feisty girl who is out of her depth entirely, a loyal, dependant follower and then her, then there's Twira. She is almost a psychopath the way she twists people's minds as she does limbs. I remember her interview, and the last line she said. She said killing isn't something you resent or enjoy. She said killing is something you do.

So now I think about it I know even more that she needs to be taken down. While Destiny is strong and Rod is clever Twira is stronger and cleverer, Twira is the mastermind behind it all. She's cool and calculating, she's trained for this since birth. She's deadly. She's a contender. She's the one to look out for. Her. Twira Hearthright.

**Destiny Bond (D1)**

No. No I am not going. As soon as the static crackled across the arena I knew I was not going to go into the second bloodbath of these games though something inside me is screaming that this is a bad plan, that I should go and fight it out at the feast. Yet I feel that part of me has a voice. That part of me sounds like Maya Scuttle, our dear hunger games commentator. And I know she can't be trusted. I know no-one can be trusted. After my parents went and died I know I could trust no-one, no-one at all. I couldn't even trust Lily who is like a sister to me. I may not give trust away but that is another setback I do not have. All I have is myself; no complicated ties to draw me in.

I remember breaking into Ms. Gretchen, our orphanage mistress' office. If you'd call a rotting desk and a mound of old papers surrounded by empty, smashed liquor bottles an office. It was to get Lily out of trouble, she lost a bet (which I have banned her on entering since) and the forfeit was breaking into Ms. Grethchen's office. I put my foot down and offered myself up for the job, knowing that I was probably the best suited to do so, better than Lily anyway.

So yes, I broke in and underneath the piles of liquor bottles and mess I found a file that drifted to the floor when I looked for her watch to steal for proof that I'd been in there. I was just about to put the file back in when I saw what was on it. My name. After a few blink I managed to open it and read what was inside. All there was on me was a single piece of paper that was still legible. I remember still what it said:

_Name: Destiny Bond_

_Age submitted: 15_

_Reason(s) why in here: Fire burnt down house, all possessions and family inside._

_Parents / Siblings: Ember Bond (mum - deceased), Wax Bond (dad - deceased)._

_Other Family: Aunt and uncle on mother's side. Grandmother on father's side._

_Contacted: Yes to both. None wanted anything to do with said child like usual._

_Attitude: Cocky and rich. Wear her down and make her accept orders._

_Room-mate: Put with Lily Skipperman. It might toughen Lily up a bit._

It was nothing that significant yet it was for me. It was a form with me, with my details plonked onto it carelessly, swimming in liquor. It's like she just shoved my life onto a piece of paper. Needless to say I burnt it. But still the words imprinted onto my mind, especially one line.

_Contacted: Yes to both. None wanted anything to do with said child like usual._

My aunt and grandmother? I thought they died or something, they were never mentioned after the fire. But they knew? They knew about me and just left me? That's why I have no family ties that I could not just let go in a second. Because that's what family does. Family lets you down.

**Lindsey Gray (D7)**

Mid-day. The sun's held in the sky and the giant timer clock above my head agrees with it, it's around twelve o'clock. Give or take an hour or two. But I actually know the brief time unlike before, as if that matters in the hunger games. I stomp forward. I have a lot of ground to push for in a short amount of time. I started last night and just about got by the Cornucopia before I went to sleep. No careers, something must have happened to them, but I was too busy purifying water to think what. Then I got out into the desert this morning and I am so glad I purified that water because I probably would have drunk it anyway, purified or not, if I didn't have the chance.

The moment I steeped in the desert I went on a direct diagonal path towards the plateau. Now I can get there as the crow flies. All I need to do is get past the crevasse. So I guess when I step up to the huge crack in the ground I shouldn't be worried and should be prepared. No. The only plan that I have been able to come up with, however much I hate it, is to jump. Oh it sounds so easy. Jump a metre or two, no problem. Well hello, in case you didn't notice there's a massive crevasse taking up that couple of metres. I gulp back another lungful of air, sure to suck in more oxygen to help me breathe. Unfortunately the abundance on oxygen into my brain makes me feel lightheaded and dizzy; or that might just be the heat in this desert, I don't know since they're both just about as deadly.

I swing back my arms, pause, and then back up for a running jump. I lean backwards and then propel myself forwards and let my legs fly into the air just as the baking desert sand crumbles down into the deep black abyss below. I flail in the air for what seems like a minute but is barely a second and then land down on the other side, limbs waving about in the air in confusion. With a loud thud I reach the earthy ground below me and feel the change of texture in the ground.

I slowly stagger to my feet and wander off in the direction of the giant redwood at the base of the plateau. The earth suddenly jerks again as it has been doing all day and I feel myself being flung to the side. I sigh yet again and get up. It seems to be doing this every half hour or so, trembling beneath my feet and getting more violent every time. But I'm used to it and most of the weak and dead wood trees have fallen and only the really strong remain, including the giant redwood where the feast, my feast, will be.

I smile although my smile is more of a grimace and trudge forward and bit more, once more getting up from the dirty ground and once more moving towards the base of the plateau. Some light ash burns my skin but I simply flick the hoodie I am wearing up and continue on. It seems to be effective in keeping the ash off me. So as more ash tumbles down I barely feel a thing and keep on going. Towards the base of the plateau, towards the second bloodbath.

**I am so sorry it took so long to put up! I've been very busy. I've updated 'Shattered Hearts' and 'Falling For Him' alongside at least two other things since I last updated this, I guess I just hit a bit of a brick wall here. But the fun will start soon. I'll keep the crazy caption open for a bit longer. Please enter. Thanks. By the way – the main reason I've been taking ages is that I've been co-authoring with two other people a story called 'Decimated Dreams'. You can find it on the profile of 'Subject Matter' and 'Let The Foxx Fly' also is a co-author so check it all out – you'll love it! I'm still pondering on who to win, though I do have a definite to who will make it to the final three... or so I think. But you won't know until it happens. In fact I think I might even know the final two as well. It's just the victor I am unsure of. Both a personal favourites but I think one is slightly more favoured by me than the other. Unfortunately the other is slightly more favoured by you lot. Ah well, I'll think it through and see how it goes.**

**Thanks! SneverusSnapers out!**


	51. Ready For Round Two

_**D**__AY __**N**__INE_

**Nate Morgue (D11)**

A maniacal cry echoes around me. Whose cry is that? Who has been almost driven to insanity and who is so close? It's me. I know by the maddening glint in my eye that everything has just gone wrong for me. Thistle's death and the wound in my shoulder both seem to be maddening me. The wound is bad; very bad. It's going infected and I have just given up the will to live, if it was ever there. But everything is red, oh so red. It's like the cold colour has embraced me and my silence and my stone cold heart. This colour is the colour of blood, death and revenge. All three I have caused. Another cry breaks from my cracked lips, sore and raw from lack of food and water. My breathing is husky and I lie here in a dizzied and dampened state, waiting for my life force to ebb away from me slowly with yet another frenzied laugh escaping from my mouth, choking out.

I try to focus on something; anything. I stare avidly at the bark on the tree in front of me. It makes pretty patterns, squiggles and circles, stars and elliptical loops. Then the patterns, dots and streaks turn into shapes. At first I see letters and numbers, seven, five, four and two, then my name printed out in front of me etched into the bark. But the letters in my name morph and swim around in front of me until it isn't right, I don't know how but it isn't right. I lean backwards and then forwards again, shuffling on the spot. I need to remember something; someone. A name. I need to remember a name.

Ella, no, Chandelle, no. The name's on the tip of my tongue but it just won't play ball and roll off until suddenly it does.

"Isabella." I manage to croak lightly, a rasp. Bella, sounds pretty in Italian. I smile, it sounds something that i would say, that my friend would say; my best friend. He's Isabella's twin brother, but I don't know his name. Douglas? I don't know, it's just not coming to me. Maybe I'll never know. Bella, a sweet name. I think she's my friend, maybe something more, maybe less. I don't know. The name sounds important, urgent. I decide she must be someone major in my life for me to be thinking about her in a time like this. I focus on my family. A few names swim in front of me, Hector, Klaus, but nothing sticks or makes any difference. Nothing makes any sense.

My real, true brain and soul seems trapped inside this shell of my body. I remember something, an announcement or something, I remember laughing. But that's it. Nothing changed. I remember feeling pleased about that. I remember a lot really. Just I don't know if what I am remembering is the truth.

**Lainey Rain (D4)**

I try to suppress a scream as I spy two tributes walking slowly and carefully together, unsure of each other and cling onto the branch of my tree even harder. It's the boy from five and the girl from ten, yes, it is. They seem unsteady around each other. It's evidently a new alliance, probably just for the duration of the feast. I can honestly see the perks. Arc and Willow, as I believe they are called, probably had no chance of getting the promised mountain of food stacked at the giant redwood tree that I can just about glimpse, smack bang in the clearing. I can see why the Gamemakers chose this space as a convenient feast spot, just something doesn't seem quite right. Ah well, it's best if I address the immediate problem, in other words the two tributes lurking below my tree. I sigh; it's now or never.

With a loud thud I launch myself out of the tree and land onto the mossy ground, trying to stop myself from doubling over winded in pain. I mustn't show fear, and the same thought seems to have registered in these tributes' eyes as I flick out a knife from my sleeve and stare them down.

"An alliance." I say simply and the two tributes look at each other, confused.

"I want to join your alliance."

"Why would you want to join us?" asks Arc, evidently confused.

"It gives me a better chance at winning." I say simply and the girl tilts her head after hearing this, contemplating it.

"What's in it for us?"

"Does it look like you really have a choice?" I ask, brandishing my knife in front of them, glinting in the air.

"What's in it for us?" Willow persists, unfazed by the knife aimed at her heart. I can't help but admire her courage.

"We'll split it three ways, whatever we get. And then we go our separate ways at the end without a skirmish; without anything. We just leave each other alone to fight another day. What do you say?"

Arc and Willow glance at each other and then they both nod slowly, led by Willow.

That's it. I knew that I might be able to take out Destiny if I tried, but with this duo that was here before I interrupted and the girl from seven, not to mention Twira, Rod and the boy from eleven I had no chance. Now maybe I can salvage something from this situation.

"Ready for round two?" I ask and click my tongue at my new found allies as the clock above me ticks ever further down and I know that there's only one hour separating me from my possible death.

**Twira Heartright (D2)**

"Shouldn't we just-"

"No." I cut Rod out of his speaking and keep on marching up this plateau.

This dratted plateau! I will never understand, no matter how higher I climb this mix between a hill and a mountain, why I can never see the top of the plateau, it's like it's not even here. It's almost like a basin, the way I can never see the top, as if it dips down rather than staying straight on. And so much for the air being clean up at this height, oh no. A dirty smog has almost engulfed us, but luckily the night vision goggles see through it so Rod and I can see, but the main problem is breathing. I just thank the Gamemakers that they supplied us with a strip of cloth that I can use to cover my mouth and the cloud of steam comes in bursts so I can still see properly half of the time. It should all be straight forward but something is gnawing on my conscience, something Rod said. He asked me why they were holding the feast at the bottom of the plateau and not away from here, not at the Cornucopia. It seems such a small and insignificant action that I shouldn't be puzzling over it, yet I am. Why though? Why would they hold the feast here, at the base of the plateau, of all places?

It's not exactly impossible to get here; I don't think a single tribute has died at the hands of the desert, or one I know of. Then not many tributes were here originally, or ones I know of, so maybe it was something to do with having to pack up and move. Of course they could have wanted a scene change, shrugged the feast off to somewhere else, or the most obvious. The reason that has been nagging me the whole time I have been here. The reason is quite ultimately simple – they know something that we don't. I am burst out of my thoughts by Rod.

"Mushrooms."

"What about them?" I ask simply and just about a jokingly as I get within the arena as I turn my heads from my boots up to see what he's staring at.

"Mottled mushrooms."

"What do you-"

Oh. Mottled mushrooms and just about any other curse under the sun. I now know the answer to all of those questions and an awful lot more; such as why there have been an unusual abundance of earthquakes and ash falls getting worse and worse, why there is a huge gaping chasm dividing her from the desert, why the air has gotten steamy and Rod and I have had to choke through the strips of fabric we have been supplied with just to breathe recently. Why I couldn't see the top of this plateau, why the animals have been unsettled with mutts and why Rod thought there would be a lake up here; why the ground's so fertile. I stare gormlessly at the top of the so called plateau and choke through the steam that seems and is rising from it. I stare at the crater in front of me. I stare at the volcano I am standing on top of; the volcano that is just about to blow.

**The truth is out! The big secret! Yes – the plateau is actually a volcano and a pretty active one at that! I'm really surprised none of you got it, what with all of the before mentioned hints, the unsure-ness (if that even is a word, which I don't think) of what to call it, the description, all of the events, even in the announcement for the feast the presenter for the games paused before saying plateau, as if unsure about which word to pick! I am so evil! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it all and any questions, feel free to PM me or express them in your reviews.**

**I am so sorry about the lack of an update but I was really busy. I did warn you that this would happen, and I'm going on holiday and I've got a summer camp and I have visitors when I'm not going around to friends' houses, it all just amounts to so much. The winner of the last crazy caption contest was h20 (a new reviewer who asked to save Willow), let's see their prize winning caption. In h20's caption the said friend is a man, just saying.**

**CRAZY CAPTION: In the future you will be in a bar, as you do, and you won't get kicked out like you normally do because you will be really annoying. So when an old enemy comes in you decide to stir some things up in there and they don't recognise you, so you go up to them and say...**

"**You really shouldn't be drinking while pregnant."**

**Well, I had a few runners up in mind but there can only be one winner and h20 nabbed the spot! Anyway, every caption contest is really counting now, and I take into account the ones that don't win as well. I have my final two sussed out but I'm still struggling with a winner. My heart is going with one, my brain the other. It's hard because I do love them all. And I just want everyone to win, but I can't let that happen, there can only be one winner! I don't cheat the system like Suzanne Collins does! ;) Joking, joking. And guess what? I was an exploding cow in drama the other day, my main role! Enough about me though, here's the next crazy caption:**

**CRAZY CAPTION: Your room is a total utter mess, no-one needs to describe it to you because you already know what this is like (I am writing this gazing over **_**my**_** junked up room). Anyway, a friend comes over to your house and they enter the room. Your door has been wedged open, otherwise you wouldn't be able to get into it, and your friend looks into your room despite your best efforts to cover it up. They take one look at your hideously messy bedroom and say...**

**Have fun with that one! It should be really fun and I hope you enjoy it! Anyway, sorry this took ages and I hope you review, even though the next one might take even longer.**


	52. The Feast

_**D**__AY __**N**__INE_

**Arcturus "Arc" Starre (D5)**

The split base of the giant redwood is opened at two sides for all to see, a two sided problem. I look at my two so called allies, Willow and Lainey. It won't take long; it will be over in a flash. Then we'll leave each other and go off, do our own thing. It will all be fine; mark my words. But I know somehow that it won't be fine, that something will go wrong. But I'll let them suss it out. That's what I do really. I melt into the background, follow those with power and break off when needed. It's worked so far in the games. It's got me into the final eight. I just hope it can get me further.

Then the countdown comes, straight from ten and going down. I see a rustling in the leaves to the left of me, someone could be there. Or not. It could just be my imagination. Either way I'm going to find out. I think about it, it could be just us three or there could be five other tributes there, waiting for us. I just hope it's the former.

Then before I know it the clock has reached zero and I see the feast lifting up. Huge silver cloches cover up the food but as I squint I can see leaves of some sort sticking out from underneath one cloche and beautiful colours underneath another. There is definitely food there. The other tributes look stunned, unsure if there is really nothing to fight over. Or the two I can see; Willow and Lainey. I nod at them encouragingly and we break the awkward pause by charging into the clearing, all three of us.

We hurriedly dart together and go back to back, looking frantically from so called ally to so called ally, checking that all of us are ok. We are. I frown, confused, at the lack of people here. Where are they all? Didn't they hear our hunger games' announcer's call? Didn't they hear? I look around again and scan the three of us, weapons drawn. I am holding a sword, Lainey a knife as is Willow. But where is everyone else? I arch my eyebrows, confused.

"I think we're alone guys." I say eventually, turning to the other two. And that's when it hits. Suddenly I feel a spear rip into my stomach, the force propelling me backwards. I stand there, stunned as a now unarmed Lindsey darts out of the bushes I saw rustling earlier. Willow and Lainey immediately run towards her just to find Lindsey flicks out a knife too. I stay dazed on the floor and look in awe at the red blood seeping through my shirt. Blood. Red.

I feel weirdly dizzy and try not to gag as I double over, clutching my stomach and hoping for it to stop, for it all to stop. As I groan in pain I notice that Willow has backed off in terror, leaving Lainey to fight off Lindsey and darts to the redwood tree, hurriedly grabs a cloche, not even bothering to open it, and runs off with full speed, pure fear in her eyes as she tips the contents of the cloche into her bag hurriedly in desperation as she sprints off.

I barely have enough time to process the fact she is running in fear from something, anything, when I note Lindsey looks where she was looking and follows lead, bolting off. Then suddenly the numbness that has been embracing me shatters and suddenly I collapse backwards, writhing in agony on the floor. I am being jabbed by millions of shards of glass, fire coursing through my body and every ounce of humanity inside me sucked out. My body ricochets into spasms and I find myself uncontrollably flinching at every whisp of air and shaking with pain and fear. But then the numbness returns as I place my shaking hands on the spear in my stomach and wrench it out, then the numbness returns as I slowly drift back into oblivion.

**Lainey Rain (D4)**

Arc's cannon fire burns through the air and I jump at it, surprised. But I calm down. Arc's dead, Willow and Lindsey bolted for some unknown reason, probably were too scared of me. Yeah, that's right. Lindsey saw she was fighting a losing battle and Willow grabbed what she could and ran, might have thought someone else would come or something. That just leaves me and a delicious mound of food underneath these what-dya-ma-call-its. Silver things, yeah, these silver things. Anyway; under the silver things, of want of a better name, there looks like there is a pile of delicious food. I pause and then walk up to the pile and rest my hand on the top of one of the silver things, grab the handle and tug off the top. My heart skips a beat as I imagine emptiness but instead my eyes feast on the marvel of food in front of me; the delicious looking spread right here.

I carefully finger a rosy apple and snigger as I see that one half is red, the other green just like in that fairy tale I heard when I was younger, charcoal black or something ridiculous. A snigger escapes my lips as I brush the apple down, carefully polish it on my shirt and lift it to my lips, letting my teeth sink into the green side. I'm not taking any chances just in case; I wouldn't put anything past the Gamemakers.

I think back to charcoal black and remember there were dwarves in it, yes, six. No, seven. I sigh as I sink my teeth in again to the apple and taste the succulent burst of flavours hit my tongue. Let me see, they all had ridiculous names, didn't they? One was called Grumpy; I remember laughing as my father used to do an imitation of him. I was younger then; that was before my parents split up and everything turned rotten in my mouth. But the apple I am eating is as sweet as ever; sweet victory. I just hope it isn't bittersweet.

Then there was Bashful and Happy, I hated those names. I still remember saying so at the time. With another smile and another bite into the apple I think harder. Doc was one, the odd one out in my opinion, and so was Sneezy. Yes; Sneezy was definitely a name of one of the dwarves. I'm sure there was a Dopey, yes, he was really stupid and always falling asleep; no. That was the last dwarf – Sleepy. What an ironic name. I actually feel rather sleepy, I have mounds of food and no worries. But sleeping now is not a good idea. I'll just relax for a tiny bit.

A yawn escapes my mouth and then I sink to the floor, drained of all energy left. I hold the apple up to inspect as a sudden numbness wraps over me and I notice the trick that has been played on me. Poison. There's no doubt about it. At least it will be a quick and relatively painless death. At least I will not feel much. I examine the apple and let out a little cheeky smile directed towards my family and despite the situation I wink at the nearest tree which no doubt will be containing a camera.

"Maybe I should have been canon and eaten the red half." I rasp but then I feel my vocal chords tighten alongside my neck and everything spin in front of me. I lie backwards, staring at the slowly spinning sky which somehow is thick with dense fog and the air seems to choke my breathing. Maybe that's what Lindsey and Willow were running from. Or maybe it was me after all. Maybe I should have went with them; maybe I would have won these games. Maybe. But I very much doubt it.

**Roderick "Rod" Giffords (D4)**

Two cannons burst off in quite quick succession just before the faces appear in the sky; that's the feast then. There are two dead there but more to follow soon. Twira and I barely notice them, speeding through the undergrowth to try and get out, away from here, away. But out of the corner of my eye I glimpse the faces. The girl from one is still alive since the next to burst in is Lainey; my district partner. I choke slightly but hold it on the gas by tugging the strip of cloth to my face again, covering my mouth. She was nothing, nothing to me. That just means I am one step closer to home, right?

Up next appears the boy from five. I'm surprised he even made it this far; that was to be expected though as well. As I pant along, tumbling down the side of the volcano, chocking through the poisonous fumes as the shaking ground mixed with ash, my hood slung up viciously, I think about the remaining tributes. Let me see; there's Destiny, Twira and myself. We're the only remaining careers, three in the remaining six. We have a fair chance of winning. Or we would if it wasn't for this dratted mountain. Then who are the others? I think carefully. It's two girls and a boy, yes. The girls from seven and ten and then the boy from eleven. I scrunch up my eyes even more, my arm scraping grit from a rock by me and I try to concentrate and think as much about them as I can. The girl from seven, well, to be honest I wasn't really listening to her. I think she has a brother, Graham, yes. And her name's Lindsey. Right, well, that's just about all I picked up. The girl from ten's name is some tree name, Maple? No, Willow? Yes, Willow. Well, I remember seeing Willow with some weird girly girls in her district who were cheering her on, so I doubt she's much of a contender either. The boy from ten? Nate Morgue, I think. I studied all of these tributes, I should know more. Though I do admit I focused mainly on the careers. Now, Nate. He talked a lot in his interview about a girl, Isabella. Though Caesar did most of the talking and he did the blushing. But he's only fourteen so no big deal, just a childish crush. They've probably just got lucky, all of them. They don't seem like real survivors or terrors.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by something suddenly breezing past my side. I swivel around to see the knife Twira just threw at me, narrowly avoiding my chest. There's no time to talk but I know what I have to do. I have to dispatch her for good. I unsheathe my sword as the trees around us collapse as the ground shudders yet again and I cough through thick, dense smog. This is going to be harder than I thought. I charge at Twira as she unsheathes her sword too and we both circle each other carefully, trying to keep our balance on the unsettling earth and keeping our eyes peeled for any mistakes the opponent does. You wouldn't have believed the amount of times I have won a sword fight with someone, but that wasn't against Twira. And that wasn't until the death.

Twira lunges at me suddenly and I flick my wrist down just in time to prevent her blow. She pushes against my sword, hoping to overpower me, but I hold steady. Eventually she pulls out and manages to get into a defensive position before my blow I send can hit her. Suddenly she sends her sword flying downwards, aim at my feet. I try to knock it aside out of her grip but Twira pulls it back before metal can clash or meet flesh. Fortunate and unfortunate at the same time.

I soon pick up and Twira's style as we notice it's best if we continue this when running down the mountain and jump over obstacles, swords interlinked. Not one of us lets our guard down or our standard of play drop though. An angry hiss escapes from my lips as I sneer at Twira and she sneers back. There was a moment when I thought I would trip over during a particularly nasty shake but I kept my balance and rushed on downwards.

Suddenly the volcano bursts to life and lava spewed out of the top. Just then I look up in terror as Twira's sword stabs my chest, knocking me backwards. But by now it's too late for both of us as a mass of molten lava pours down the side of the volcano, heading straight our way.

**I'm not going to do a crazy caption now, in fact I'll reveal the winner of last time's, push off one more and that will be the last since I only have two more chapters of this story planned. I am so sorry to the creators of Arc and Lainey, yes, that's you 'Let the Foxx Fly' and the other person (I would say 'lacrossefreak100' but I am not sure. Sorry! I should have taken tabs). I'm also very sorry to Pokela, the creator of Twira and the creator of Rod, who I also am oblivious to (yeah, pretty rubbish, huh?). And also sorry to any other tributes who are currently on the mountainside because I can safely confirm that out of the two of you, only one will survive. And I know who that is... In fact I have decided who wins so no matter of pleading will change things (not that it ever did actually).**

**There may only be two more chapters of these games but we have the après games interview and of course, the reunion with friends and family. That means there will only be about 5 more chapters left here. Also you may have noticed that I have cleaned this story up slightly, don't worry, it's nothing big, I just felt the sudden urge to do so, so it's easier to read. **

**Tell me if you want me to do another SYOT once this is finished or if it is better if this stands alone. I would be very happy to hear all of your opinions on it and maybe reserve spots if I was to embark on another one, but that is not decided yet. Just a couple of people brought it up. But you know how ruthless I am and sorry, sorry, sorry, to all of you who gave me a basic outline for a character which I could use to build on because it was really useful! Anyway, I told you there was going to be a massacre, and it's only just beginning! Four tributes left, eh? One dies in the next chapter and two in the one after that, or so I think... anyway, I hope you're enjoying this and please tell me your views on everything!**

**RiversOfVenice – I have written my reply on a review for this, it is straight after the review you just gave for the previous chapter. Check it out!**


	53. Escaping Myself

**D**AY **N**INE

**Lindsey Grey (D7)**

I run. There's not much more to it, I run. The shots of cannon fire that have reached my ears feel as if my very soul has been set on fire, the fire raging through and burning every essence that remains. I think carefully about the cannon shots that I heard. The faces of the girl from four and Arc appeared in the sky. Every feeling I had sunk, like a fish gulping from water so it can breathe. But I got it, I am stable. Just about. I hare onwards, running at full pelt through the toppling forest, stones rolling after me and nipping at my heels, causing me to trip and fall forwards several times as I feel the skin on my knees rip to shreds and the burning never ebbing away, the consistent burning of both my skin and my soul rips through me like paper. Yet I can do nothing to stop it.

I don't even try to wonder who else died. Two more cannon shots called through the air almost immediately after the tribute's faces appeared in the sky. The moment the wall of lava erupted from the top of the mountain, literally obliterating anything in its path. They must have been hit. They must have died.

I clench my teeth and run on. The chances are they were the only other two non-careers remaining, the girl from ten and the boy from eleven. So that just leaves me with the ruthless psychopath from two, the hulk and survivor from four and the deadly bittersweet girl from one. That's not a good position to be in. Not a good position at all.

I'm not exactly in a good position at the moment either, haring my way down the volcano as fast as I can and trying my hardest not to fall over quite simply because if I fall I die. I feel a disgusting metallic taste fill my mouth and I realise it's blood. I've bitten my tongue so hard that its begun to bleed. I cough a hacking cough in reaction to the smoke and blood sprays out of my mouth. This is not good, this is really not good.

My whole body is in agony, my muscles screaming in pain, commanding me to stop. But I can't. If I stop I die. If I trip I die. If I run I still die. The realisation hits me hard and sends me sprawling across the floor, a graze shredding through my skin on my right arm as I collapse on the floor.

Sobs rack through my body. I am going to die. I am going to die. And nothing I do can stop that. Then suddenly I feel firm hands on me, tugging me up. I look up in amazement to see the girl from ten, Willow, the girl from ten helping me to my feet. With a steady shove she sends me stumbling back down the hill after her, tumbling in her wake.

I concentrate on copying her movements, following her. Nothing hits me about why she is doing this or what she even is doing. It's too much of a panic. It's all too much of a panic. I run and I run and I run until I cannot run any more but I still run, surpassing such boundaries of pain through this thick, dense smog that even I am shocked.

Then it happens. The girl in front of me, the girl from ten, trips. What do I do? I don't know her, I can't help her. What can I do about it? _Leave her to die_. A shocking revolution rips into my mind and the voice that must be coming from somewhere whispers again into my head, _leave her to die_.

No, no. I can't do that. Could I? If she was Graham, if she was my brother. Would I leave her to die? She must have siblings, she must have family. She must have friends. No, no I will not. I will not be taken in and used as a pawn, I am more than that. I am not potted plant. This plant is cannibalising, this plant is going to turn into a giant man-eating triffid. This plant will fight back. I will fight back and I will win.

I grip the girl in front of me and I push her forwards like she did to me, but unlike what she did to me I do not follow. I cannot follow, I am not that strong. I can't do it. But the girl; the girl realises and she sprints my way and her hands grip my arms and try to tug me back up, haul me into action again. But it doesn't work. It won't work.

"No. Go, leave me." I croak and the girl shakes her head through the smoke and ash.

"Go! Save yourself!" I manage to yell but still the girl stays.

"Do it for both of our family." I murmur and with such a look of pain and remorse in the girl's eyes she turns and runs away; away from me. She runs away from death and away from the imminent danger that will soon come cascading down upon me. So I close my eyes; I close my eyes and wait patiently. I wait for the end to come and I know that when it will; when it will I will be ready. Because that girl; that girl who I don't even know the name of, that girl gave me hope.

**Willow Grams (D10)**

I choke back tears in the fog. I don't remember her at all; I don't even know what district she comes from. But I do know one thing. She was and still is brave. She is the bravest person I have ever met and she is definitely a lot braver than me. And I by the cannon shot ringing in my ears I know that she, she of all people, she of all shape and forms, she is dead.

But I have to focus on the living now, rather than the dead. I have to look after number one and no matter how much it pains me in my heart I know that that is what she would have wanted. So I run. I don't just steady jog let's go for a quick race run, I full hearted pelt my life out into my legs and no matter how much pain speed up even more run. I don't know what I'm running from; the lava, the girl or myself. But I know that whilst I might escape the lava and maybe even the girl may be able to slip from my conscious at times I will never be able to escape myself.

I see it! I see, through the dense smoke and racking ash burning at me, I see the rock with the rope tied to it. This is where I have been heading to; I just hope I'm not too late. It looks like I am though, with the heat scorching my back and the pain, oh, the pain that that heat brings I can barely feel myself but I know how long I have and how long it will take me to shimmy down that rope. I know how much time I have. Not enough.

I grit my teeth in desperation and desperately try to do anything, anything at all, so I whip out my strip of fabric and do to the first thing that comes to my head. Well, ok, the second thing that comes to my head. The first was Morris dancing and I decided that maybe that wasn't such a good idea regarding the current situation. The next thing that popped into my head isn't far off. Do you know what it is? Zip wiring. There are two clues hidden in the name there. Number one – wire; I've got rope. Number two – zip. I'm only going to be attached by this measly strip of fabric which can barely hold a few pebbles rather than being zipped in with harnesses and safety equipment and random pulleys that seem useless at the time but probably save your life a million times over. But I've seen it work in films. It's worth a shot.

I take a running jump towards the rope, perhaps not such a clever idea, jump as high and far as I safely can, ensuring that the cloth attaches to the target, feel my whole body drag me down as I zoom forward, my arms almost popping in their sockets for about two seconds and then I feel the rope snap. Whoops; big mistake. I feel myself plummet down the chasm before my eyes pick up on it. I also feel my arm automatically grab onto the rest of the feeble rope as my body swings forwards and crashes cartoon style into the rock face. Only this time I don't make an imprint and go as flat as a pancake. Only this time I feel it and boy do I feel it.

Ow. That is all I'm going to say, just _ow_. The pain that hits me is so unbearable, so phenomenally painful that the only word I can use to describe it is ow. And awful lot of ow. But somehow, magically, spiritually, by pure coincidence, I don't know, I manage to hold on. And as if the pain couldn't get any worse it does. Because the lava which has been chasing me down the hill flows into the chasm; the chasm which I am currently dangling from on the other side.

Then ow becomes one whopper of an understatement and real pain kicks in. I just cannot describe the agony that hits me, it is so hot all my nerve endings seem to go numb almost immediately, causing only one brief screech of pain apart from a few smart show-offs who decide it would be fun to keep on transmitting pain signals to my brain. Oh ha ha; my sides are literally splitting. No, literally, it feels like they are anyway.

After what seems like hours put probably is only minutes of life threatening pain I somehow inhumanly manage to heft myself up the chasm and lie there, panting, in the sun baked sands. I reach out for my water container which is in the bag where I put everything from the feast but it isn't there, it must have been scorched off my back and therefore indirectly saved my life. Therefore it has also indirectly killed me since I cannot live without water. My arm clutches my hip and a small smile flickers through my face as I realise that I still have a small container by my waist. There might be a chance for me yet.

**Destiny Bond (D1)**

It's mad; the plateau is a volcano, a volcano. And it exploded, causing ripples of cannon fire to ricochet across the arena. All I'm saying is that I'm glad I wasn't on there because I doubt anyone who was would have survived; I wouldn't have. I know that for certain. Why? I'm afraid of fire. You may scoff but my whole family and my home was engulfed in those flames, well, the family who wanted me that is, but my family, oh my darling family, they died. Because of fire. And now I very well may live because of it. The world works in mysterious ways.

Something pings at me, something hard. I still can remember the screams of that day, the screams that came out of that house and I stood there; I still there unable to do anything to help them. A fifteen year-old girl, helpless. I never want to have to feel that feeling ever again. Helpless as my mother and my father and everything I love and cherish goes up in flames before my very eyes. My bitter eyes, bitter as sour. I cannot think about it yet I do, yet I have to. I have to remember what happened then or I might become what I was then; helpless. It is not a feeling I ever want to feel again.

I guess that's the reason I started training. Well, I trained from an early age, but when I started to really train was after the fire. That's when it became my passion, my hobby, my love; my life. Because I know what it is like to stand helpless in this world when something bad happens to you and everyone around you and you're impossible to stop it. I know how that feels. And that's why I have to win.

I blink slowly trying to keep back the pain this desert is holding from me. Cannon fire. That's all I can think of. Cannon fire. How many? I think about it. Since the faces in the sky, Lainey was one of them, there have been three shots. There were eight of us, then it's going down. It reminds me of one of those nursery rhymes. Suddenly I feel a sudden need to sing, to quench my thirst of hatred towards, well, everything. I keep it down quietly so not to alert anyone of my presence, but none the less I sing. I think I made this song up when I was young and blissfully unaware of what the games really meant, I knew enough though not to sing it in public, so I'm keeping myself quiet as I sing the song of the games three years ago, the same year as my parents died just weeks later. It was the a hundred and fiftieth hunger games and a quarter quell.

_Twenty-four helpless tributes in the games, _

_One got stabbed and then another got maimed,_

_Someone got attacked and another died too,_

_Then there was the one that was poisoned by you,_

_Nineteen condemned tributes ready to die,_

_One got ill and another struck by lightning from the sky,_

_Two held each other dying in their arms,_

_Then another popped off to eternal calm,_

_Fourteen fighting tributes in complete mercy,_

_One died fighting and another in the sea,_

_Then someone else got stabbed as well,_

_This is a lot of bloodshed from a Quarter Quell,_

_Eleven remaining tributes, none of them weak,_

_Three had slit throats and "died in their sleep",_

_The final eight started but two dropped off soon,_

_Caught in battle by a giant monsoon,_

_Six heartless tributes, all careers,_

_Stabbed each other in the back and two died in tears,_

_Hunted each other down and one died of blood loss,_

_Then another went and popped their clogs,_

_Three final tributes fighting in one battle,_

_A rock struck down one and the other was stampeded by cattle,_

_Finally the remaining victor stood,_

_He was cruel and ruthless and far from good,_

I guess that song should bring back memories pouring in but all it brings is tears to my eyes and the bitter taste of remorse.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry to the creator of Lindsey, just you knwo what it's like. Some die, some live. If it makes you feel any better I had a really hard time deciding. but in the end I decided she would die because she was just oo nice. The hunger games is no place for nice people! ;'( I'm going to leave the crazy caption open for one more chapter so it'll finish on the last games chapter, and that just might be the end of that. There's good news and there's bad news. By the way, if you're finding it hard to review this chapter then do it with your account off.<strong>

**The good news is that I have decided to do another SYOT. Not now, just when I finish this. But since it's not that far off I don't think it's that bad an idea to be thinking about anyway. Now I haven't decided on much, but I have decided if you want to reserve a place that's fine. You'll have to PM me (PM mind you, not review) your tribute. I'm afraid to say I'm going to be accepting tributes from people with accounts, so if you don't have an account I'm so sorry but if you're that desperate you could always make one. Like I know Pokela, for example, doesn't have an account, so if you were to make one and say it was you in the PM (it doesn't matter if you don't say, it would just be nice) then I could know. **

**One tribute each, or so I have planned. You don't need to plan the tribute out, just say their district and gender in your PM, but I'm only accepting one tribute per person. The form and everything will come later, just to reserve a spot before I open it to any old riff raff (lol ;D). One tribute each, PMed, member only, oh yes! It well might be a quarter quell, so expect loads of plot twists! ;D**

**The bad news is that I'm going away for a week without electronics. I know, I know. I've almost finished and all that jazz. Leaving you in suspense. But it's a family holiday and I can't exactly skive off that, can I? And I think the "no electronics" thing is pre-tty set in stone if you ask me. They're even going out and buying airfix models... *shudders*. Well, you can use that time to your advantage and go and read all of my other wonderful things I've written! ;D**

**Bye then, and see you in about a week! Don't forget to PM me the reservation if you want one, and give me a back up district too please, just in case you can't get your way! The form and everything will come later when I open it once I've finished this SYOT, no more than a few weeks then I should think, counting my holiday! ;D And this isn't just for people who have submitted tributes before in this one, no, it's for anyone who is reading this at all. if you've read this far then _evidently _you must be interested in my writing or otherwise be very, very bored! or reservations are open to anyone with an account, do it via PM but excuse me if I don't reply for a week or so - I'll be on holiday! Remember the back-up district or two! ;D**

**~Snev**


	54. The Grand Finale

_**D**__AY __**T**__EN_

**Nate Morgue (D11)**

Every crisp whisp of air that shoots past my face is one of true flavour and distinction, bittersweet memories and pain. Oh the pain. How do I know? I know because that air, that odious and deadly air, carries a scent. A lingering scent whips through the cold and cutting breeze, an ancestral scent. My scent; my blood. My blood; my pain. My pain; my death. It is not long before mutt and tribute alike follow the scent through the wild rampaging winds and end up here alongside my nearly dead body, it is not long at all.

So the sudden sound of shuffling and snuffling I hear from around me means I am almost immediately struck with raw cold fear, the kind of fear you get when it's something natural. Instinctual fear, my fear. I am almost paralysed by it, but then I realise I am just too weak to turn a head to look, too weak. The red haze around all of my eyes has cleared overnight; it had lifted up like the fog on a winter morning. Leaving numbness. No pain, no agonizing contortions writing through my body and sending spasms rippling up my back, no, numbness. And somehow that's worse.

I keep my peripheral vision open and let my eyes flicker slightly to the left where the rustling is coming from. I feel myself clench my knife in my sweaty palm. This is it. This is the pinnacle of my existence. This is my death. I sense it somehow, in the air. That air that means and shows so much. Death. Lingering here, in the land of the living. Waiting, pausing, to claim its next victim. I think that's me. I know somehow that's me.

It shuffles out of the bushes, apprehensive snorts coming from its mouth. This is no tribute. As it waddles out into the clearing a cry is caught in my throat in fear and in lack of being to be able to do anything. Thick tusks like trunks sprout out of its mutated face, coarse black bristly hair roughly spikes all over its hell bound body, piggy little eyes glare at me with a magnitude of hatred all over it from its sharp curled tail to its huge expanding stomach. That's one big pig.

But as I take it all in I notice one thing again. _Piggy little eyes glare at me_. Mottled mushrooms. It's seen me. I draw a sharp quick breath that may well me my last and I stare back into the mouth of the beast, pain enveloping my senses. There is nothing else I can do. I can only stay here. The muddy, wet ground below me stays uneventful but terribly wet and cold, the mud that was soothing against my fever now just a nightmare as my body freezes up in tense anticipation. This is not good. This is definitely not good. This is bad.

My hazel brown eyes lock with the hog's black beads and I feel my matted black hair draped past my shoulders prickle on end in shock and anticipation of what will come. Terror mainly. This animal, this beast, it is not normal; it is not natural; it is not a creature that could have never been born on this earth. Only test tubes and syringes could conjure up this nightmare, cold needles like the one in my arm where the tracker lies. Like that. Only worse; a lot, lot worse.

My throats' too dry to utter any words, they just stick in the back of my throat, coarse and arid like sandpaper. What I do manage to choke out between desperate tears of joy is barely legible. You might be able to piece it together with an array of lip mime artists, unspoken word specialists and various speech experts as they no doubt will, but my message is clear enough, the rough, raw feeling of the message anyway. It comes across loud and clear, well, as the last thing I will ever think or say. _I'm scared_.

Then the hog strikes and everything turns black.

**Destiny Bond (D1)**

Cannon fire. I guess it should be a sweet sound to my ears now. It means I'm in the final two. But it just feels like another person has been butchered. _Block it out_. I tell myself and gulp back what could be tears but isn't, it can't be; it just isn't.

Everything around me seems to contort in the light; everything becomes dancing colours flickering past my eyelids like bursting fireworks. But I keep a straight face set in determination like stone. I keep hard grit inside me and feel a heart of stone seem to come into me. That's what happens when you're a killer. Yes, I'm a killer. I haven't quite come to the grips f the idea yet. But it will sink in. I think it's because killing Tour felt so, it's terrible to say this, but _right_. Just like a thing I should have done a long time ago. But that would make me a monster and I am no monster. Well, I hope not anyway. Though now I think about it I very well may be one.

I stay at the oasis in the desert though, the bitter cold of the night, gnawing into my skin and ripping past warmth has been replaced with the day's beating heat as I drop tablet of iodine followed with tablet of iodine into the small flasks of water in front of me, and making sure I don't overdose though. I keep my lip trembling and thoughts straight. He or she can come for me. I think carefully. Last night revealed a lot. Either the boy from eleven or the girl from ten will come. Well, I will be prepared either way. I hold up the knife carefully in my right hand, the grip careful and precise. One wrong move and that could be the end of me. Right here, right now. I have come so far that I think it would be the most cruel dying now; even more cruel than in the bloodbath. At least it's quick then. This might be drawn out, but I think by who the other two tributes are that it won't be. At least a quick death is guaranteed to both of us. If we die at the other's hands that is.

So I sit and I wait, knife propped, teeth gritted in steely determination. Death seems too raw, too evil. Death seems too harsh. I have to live, I _must_ live. But the other person might feel that too...

_The other person is wrong!_

Yes, I should live, it should be me. I have reasons to live and while I may not have much of a family Lily undoubtedly needs me. Otherwise she won't be able to live properly. She needs me to protect her even if she is just my age. Even if she is just my friend she's my family at the same time and I don't think I could bear life without her. It's just become so normal since fifteen. Three years of life in an orphanage and I'm already fully accustomed to the rules and the ways. Well, that's probably the better way rather than being totally oblivious. And with my victor's money I'll shut Ms. Gretchen down. Or at least secure some better life for all of the nicer people in the orphanage. But when i scrunch my eyes and try to think of them all I can think of is Lily. Fine, just Lily then. I'll pull her out as "family" and get her to live with me. Don't think I can bear the thought of life alone, yet alone without her. She's like a sister to me.

Out of nowhere suddenly I see the other tribute standing on the other side of the oasis, looking at me, just looking. It's the girl – Willow. Suddenly a parachute lands at my feet and I carefully bend down and rip open the package. It's a sword and by the looks of things that isn't good for the girl. I let my knife fly at her, deliberately aiming it at her feet and she hurriedly bends down to pick it up with a puzzled look on her face. Now I have a sword and she has two knives. It's just about even.

"To the death." I say and then she looks up at me and grits her teeth.

"To the death."

**Willow Grams (D10)**

Rather than going around the oasis the career, Destiny and I charge straight at each other through the oasis hoping to catch the other off guard. Instead we meet sloppily in the middle. The water is freezing but I ignore the pain of that and focus on Destiny. I remember my mentor telling me something, something about the eyes. You can always tell things from an opponent's eyes. I look up at Destiny's eyes and find them staring right back into mine, my dark grey eyes against her marbled emerald green. Then we both blink and then dive at each other at the same time.

I throw a knife at her and we are at such close distance that I manage to get her, but it only embeds itself in her arm. Luckily that's her right arm. Unluckily it looks by the way she tosses the sword over that she can also fight with her left. I realise I just missed an opportunity for attack gawping at her. I will not do so again, I will stay alert, I will stay focused and I will stay ready.

As the weaker fighter in this by the looks of it, or the underdog, I am doing surprisingly well. Only I can't throw my second knife now in the hope that it might kill her off because if it doesn't then I'm unarmed against her sword. And the sponsor gifts aren't exactly falling. Destiny decides it's time to strike. I stagger backwards as she brandishes the sword, it flashing gleefully in the light. But the gleeful glint turns into something a lot more deadly when it hacks in my knife carrying arm. I cry out in pain and shakily grip the knife in the other hand. I see Destiny also paused for me to exchange knife hands to my left, but somehow I don't think it was absent mindedness that stopped her. No, I think she's playing fair. So to win I have to play dirty.

As Destiny is patiently waiting for me to lock eyes with her again I suddenly dart at her and strike out, my knife ripping into her chest. I try not to gag as the strong overpowering stench of blood fills my nose and I stagger backwards to the no doubt imminent sound of cannon fire. She will die soon from that, a minute or so perhaps. I woozily glance down and see red. Blood, swimming around me, the water is covered in blood. I look at Destiny and see her clenching her jaw and her fist and digging her palm into her chest, face tight in frustration. But there's less blood there. I stagger backwards again and then my chest gets out of the water.

The pain of the wound hits me and I go sprawling backwards dizzily into the water where even it cannot numb it now. The water was keeping the wound clean and I didn't realise of its existence until too late. It seems Destiny can play dirty too but was only really playing for time. I wonder when I got the wound. I don't know, I don't know.

Suddenly it hurts to think and a piercing feeling envelops me as I lie in the water, my body covered in the bloodied usually crystal clear drink. This is bad, this is very bad. This is death in fact,, and my suspicions are confirmed as everything fizzles with the ringing sound of my cannon fire in my ears.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry to the owners of all dead tributes, though I suppose you should be happy that they got so far... oui Venice and Arcticmist? So that's it! Just to confirm in case you are guessing if "it might have been Destiny's cannon fire", no. Destiny Bond from district one is the winner of the 153<strong>**rd**** hunger games! Yay! ;D**

**This is not the end of "Kill Or Be Killed" though, oh no! We have a couple more chapters yet! But it is however, the end of the much loved "crazy caption" contest! Here is our final winner and their caption. The final winner of Kill Or Be Kill's caption contest is...**

**Let The Foxx Fly!**

**It was very hard, but I eventually decided that Foxx's was the best. Sorry! ;D Here's Foxx's caption:**

**CRAZY CAPTION: Your room is a total utter mess, no-one needs to describe it to you because you already know what this is like (I am writing this gazing over **_**my**_** junked up room). Anyway, a friend comes over to your house and they enter the room. Your door has been wedged open, otherwise you wouldn't be able to get into it, and your friend looks into your room despite your best efforts to cover it up. They take one look at your hideously messy bedroom and say...**

"**What a unique artwork display you've created here. I'm impressed."**

**I'm going to try that on my mum the next time she has a go at my room. Just say it's a "Unique artwork display"! =)**

**RiversOfVenice: (Non-Venicers might want to skip this paragraph) You might have to make a new account then! =( Just I don't want a Venice free fanfic, I'd go crazy if I only had Foxx to talk to! =( Anyway, PLEASE get a new account so you can reserve and make a new tribute for my new SYOT! Heh heh heh! And I hope you're OK. And I KNOW I'm amazing! ;P**

**Oh yeah, talking about my new SYOT everyone, I have an announcement to make! It shall be called "Lost In Translation" and will be very, very exciting and will be stuffed with cliff-hangers! Well, like anything I write could be otherwise. I've had a couple of people want to submit a tribute without PM but that isn't possible. You could get one of your friends to reserve a place and submit it, that person has an account that allows PMs of course, but they'd have to say it was from you. That's all I can think of. Just it has to be all via PM, not review, because I definitely want to make sure I keep within the guidelines without a doubt so no-one will claim I haven't. Main reason for the chapter clear-ups and such here. ;P**

**Then that's the end of the chapter, which just happened to be the 25****th**** in the games! So I wrote 25 inside of the games chapters! =P See you in a while. Actually I think only Foxx has reserved a place for another character via PM that had a tribute that used to be here. Do you all hate my SYOTs that much? ;) **

**~Snev**


	55. Apres Games Interview

I look back at her again, Destiny, Destiny Bond, as she sits on her formal throne with great grace and a twinkle in her eye as is her dress. But that's forced. I know she went through some serious stitching in her chest where Willow stabbed her and is almost as patched up as me. Ok, that's a lie. After I collapsed the last time I thought that it might be the end of my career. I thought wrong. But the Capitol quite simply don't care about me, they care about her – Destiny Bond, district one female, the winner of the 153rd hunger games. What a title.

I glance at her dress while the cameras are giving it the once over, and then they give it the twice and thrice over just for luck and of course the fact that she looks positively stunning. She looks like a fallen angel. Her waist length hair has been pulled up into a high fashionable do which seems to glimmer in the light as her skin radiates power and glows slightly, a real complexion show stopper. Her teeth, glistening white, shine as her dress does, pearly and innocent. She looks like one real creature of good. I see the beginnings of cover-up makeup over the scar on her knee when she hitches up her long flowing dress which radiates its own light to sit down but it's suddenly stopped half finished. I have a feeling Destiny may have been something to do with that.

"So Destiny, it's nice to see you again."

"You too Caesar, but I just can't wait to get home."

"You won't have to wait long will you though, district one is the first stop in the victory tour."

"No, not long."

"Well, I would love to chat some more but we have a video to watch!" My clenched jaw and forced smile hide the wires running through my back, pumping various vitamins and goodness knows what else into me causing me to keel over. Or I would have keeled over if it wasn't for the extra-supportive chair I've been propped in. I'm like a walking corpse. Or rather a talking corpse, walking is now out of the question with all of the medicine I am being propped up on.

The video has already started and I pretend to watch with interest. Nowadays I just try to block the worst out and get onto it. Destiny has a permanent grin on her face which, if you look at it closer, seems more like a permanent grimace. But the cameras aren't looking closer and neither is anyone else. Just me. Just me.

The bloodbath starts with the gong and I watch one by one as each tribute is individually stabbed, poisoned, shot or eaten by wild animals. It's sick. But I can't say that; I can't say anything. I'm Caesar Flickerman aren't I? But actually my words aren't even my own any more. Some voice imitator is speaking through a loudspeaker for me, so it seems like my microphone that's projecting it. I can't even speak. I am physically not able to even do that. So why won't they let me die? Why won't they just let me die in peace?

Eventually the screen scrolls to the final showdown where Destiny slits Willow's stomach and she doesn't notice. The end credits roll down alongside the tributes' names like they would do for actors in a film. Except this is reality television and those poor children really are dead. The names may not scroll across the screen when I close my eyes but the imprinted message imprints into my eye sockets with the light and I am still forced to read every single name. It starts with Destiny, that's bearable, she's alive, but then it just gets worse.

_Destiny Bond, Tournaline Solier, Twira Hearthright, Shale Overheart, Quazza Willowwhisper, Cole Dallan, Lainey Rain, Roderick Giffords, Fenora Kensington, Arcturus Starre, Reena Woodson, Brink Freeman, Lindsey Grey, Axel Leaf, Tessinal Carter, Robert Tars, Lusa Canvis, Dallas Starconn, Willow Grams, Mitchel Rye, Thistle Clay, Nate Morgue, Match Lyte, Braxlin Coal._

Twenty-four names heartlessly slathered there, on the screen. And twenty-three dead. One lone survivor. I look up to Destiny and say that, _twenty four dead, one lone survivor_, but it doesn't get out. All that gets out is a slight gurgle followed by an already prepped message.

"Studies show that Willow actually died of drowning after she fell into the subconscious state under the water rather than actually of the wound you gave her. What do you feel about that."

"She died either way." Destiny shrugs.

"Right, and how do you feel about seeing your family again?" the message rings out over my unsaid string of swear words the gurgle out. Maybe it was best that was over spoken, this _is_ national television and all.

"I already said; my family is dead in a fire that destroyed both my home and my heart." Destiny says and I manage to give her a look, "But I have my friend Lily."

"Ah yes, Lily. Did you mention her in your earlier interview?" the voice rings.

"Oh, I honestly can't remember." Destiny giggles slightly, acting suddenly quite frivolous and joyful than earlier.

"But you _did_ mention the fire."

"Yes." Destiny stiffens.

"So, err," the voice falters slightly and I insert a smile into the gap remaining, "how old are you?"

"What?" Destiny asks.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Well that certainly gave you an advantage, eh?"

"My advantage was my skill, wit and passion for survival."

"Wit, eh?"

"Yes. Wit."

"Crack us a joke then."

"I don't like being put on the spot..." Destiny murmurs.

"Come on sugar!" coaxes the voice and soon the audience is chanting _come on, come on, come on._

"Well, knock knock."

"Who's there?" the voice springs back almost immediately unnervingly in an almost identical accent to mine.

"Who who who."

"Who who who who?"

"Oh, it must be an echo."

The audience breaks into unsteady laughter, "You made that up didn't you?" asks the voice.

"Well, err, yes, as a matter of fact I did."

"Guilty as charged." Toys the voice.

"Guilty as charged." Repeats Destiny.

"Well, I think we'll have to call that a wrap." The voice admits and I manage to smile as the cameras with the lights alongside them dim and go offline. Just as Destiny gets up to go I grip her by the arm and she swivels around to look at me. I give her a pleading look as if to say _help me_ but she thinks I'm being positively weird and I think I have probably just freaked her out and she staggers off, a flickering dress like a fallen star is imprinted on my eyes forever. Then I just blank out.

* * *

><p><strong>After this just one more chapter and then I believe that is the end of this story! *sniffle*. I was thinking about doing a Gamemaker chapter but I realised it wouldn't actually be there for any reason (you may not have noticed it but I used Gamemaker mettings to draw to attention certain things. If you haven't noticed it then it evidently hasn't worked). Now I KNOW I said that the previous Crazy Caption was the last but I was desperate to do a special R.I.P caption for all of you just for fun. No rewards or anything, just the end R.I.P. caption!<strong>

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are walking along in a cemetery and you spot a gravestone which sticks out to you, it's an average gravestone so you don't know why until you read the inscription on the stone. It reads...**

**I just can't wait! Really, I can't! And whoever submits this first is most likely to win because I'm so desperate to finish this I might just start on the next chapter now!**


	56. That Was Number Two :THE END:

My home: District one - luxury goods for the Capitol. I know it's here as soon as the brisk busy breeze hits me in the face and I feel a smile reach my face. I'm going to be all right, there, I said it. Everything is going to be just fine now, now I've won. My feet automatically guide me off the train and onto the hard concrete floor at the station. I nod absent-mindedly to my drunken escort as she waves a bottle of brandy at me. She's almost worse than Ms. Gretchen. Almost. A small smile reaches my lips as I realise I'm now more important than her. Well, that will teach her.

I'm led to the stage by my mentor, a fiery girl who goes by the name of Capri who's only nineteen so just one year older than me. We've got on a lot but she'll never be anything like Lily. We'll both be neighbours now I guess; it's actually quite a nice thought that I might have more than one friend out there really. I reach the stage and smile at the audience. I haven't given my speech to the other places but after I've finished talking about Tour I get a week in district one to get back to grips with things and then I can get back on my own two feet again.

"Tour Solier." I manage to say into the microphone and almost flinch at the way it seems to turn bitter in my tongue even when it's not meant to, "was killed by me."

I pause, trying to remember what I was going to say but everything has washed clear from my mind and I have to stutter an improvisation and quick, "and therefore that means that he was good, that he was great. The fact that he was killed by the victor shows something. If he had died at the hands of the loser, or someone else that died in the bloodbath it would show that he was beaten by the lowest of the low so therefore was below them, but because he was beaten by me he could have been anywhere across that remaining scale, even second place though I feel that remains in Willow Grams' grip almost definitely."

The crowd are attentive and then I give my pre-made speech about the wonders of the Capitol and then get going as soon as the cameras stop rolling. I have to find Lily, I just need to know she's alright and that everything's ok with her and that she got the powder blue dress of hers I sent her from the Capitol alongside a strip of white silk that she could sow one, oh hang that - I need to know she's fine!

I briskly barge past the cameramen who seem stunned how far I've shoved them and that I've shoved them at all. Honestly? I've just won the hunger games; I should be able to shove the odd cameraman out of the way without getting weird looks. I break into a brisk invigorating jog and hurry to the orphanage. Some part of me seems to be saying that it has burnt down in a huge fire, Lily inside it. I tighten my jaw and up my jog.

Lily is there outside, waiting for me. I see she's wearing the light blue dress I got posted back to her in case, well, it didn't bear thinking about, and is carrying two quite small cases packed with all of out possessions and even has Sonata, my old teddy bear with her, the one thing I managed to rescue from the fire. No matter how much it will bruise my image to keep her I don't think I'll ever be able to throw her away.

"Lily!" I yell and her head whips around to see mine, a smile lighting up her face.

"Destiny!" she yells back, quieter than I did, and I charge towards her, arms outstretched as she puts down Sonata on my case.

In a few seconds flat I'm right next to her and have my hands wrapped around her back, almost squeezing the life out of her. It's so great to be back, back here with Lily, with everyone. It's just so great. Everything's perfect, well as perfect it can get in district one anyway.

"You did it." Lily states mid-hug.

"Yes, I did it." I say, unsure of what else to say.

"For a few moments in there I thought, I thought..." Lily stutters through tears which I find have greeted me too. What's this? A victor doesn't cry! Stuff that, I'm crying and I might as well be proud of it. It know what she thought, I thought the same thing many times in the arena where death seemed so imminent and impossible to escape; yet I did.

"Me too." I nod in agreement and clasp Lily's hand tightly, "I'm back now though, eh?"

"I suppose so..." sniffles Lily.

"Chin up!" I say and touch my hand to Lily's chin, moving it upwards slightly. At my touch Lily flinches. I freeze, uncertain and on the case again like I have been these past three years. There are only two things that make Lily flinch. Rats, which I cannot sense at the moment, and if someone has done that before. Someone who she didn't expressly want to...

"Who?" I say simply and Lily knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"No Destiny, I'm fine. It doesn't matter."

"It does. Who?" I persist.

"Rabadigo Moils. But Destiny-" she gives in and then calls after me, I've already started running off in search of him, and I turn around to face her pleading eyes, "I'm fine. Really. He did no serious damage."

"Unluckily for him that's a one way street."

Eventually I find him hanging around with a couple of mates. He's that red head I saw with Tour, fiery temper, worse attitude. But he is Tour's friend. And I killed him. Maybe I should be slightly more gracious and tactful about it. I pause and then swagger up to him.

"Two things." I say to him before he can react or even turn a head, holding two fingers up to emphasise my point. Those two fingers weren't in exactly a nice position either if you get what I'm saying and his head turns just in time to see that.

"Number one – sorry I killed your best mate." I say and drop a finger to make an even worse sign with my hands.

"Err... so what's number two?" The boy finally manages to stutter after processing the initial shock and what I just said in such a hardcore way as well as my fingers all at once.

"Number two?" I ask and punch him in the face before adding a kick to the stomach and finish it with a high kick in his neck almost instantly following with the other leg, winding him severely as he crumples to the floor, lucky not to be paralysed or worse. I grin at him, a grin that is more of a grimace really.

"That was number two."

**THE END**

* * *

><p><strong>So that's the end of Kill or Be Killed! Aw! It's sad to see it go. I would like to give special thanks to everyone who submitted a tribute or followed this or did anything at all really, thanks so much! The winner of the REAL final crazy caption (not just the penultimate one) is *drum roll*...<strong>

**Me! I thought I should have as much as a chance as you lot, and decided that if I didn't get a good enough one entered then I'd just win myself! It's not my best, but I wanted to make it KOBK related, since it's near the end... ;D**

**And here's the winning caption:**

**CRAZY CAPTION: You are walking along in a cemetery and you spot a gravestone which sticks out to you, it's an average gravestone so you don't know why until you read the inscription on the stone. It reads...**

"**Here lies Ned the chippie from district four who floundered too much and consequently choked on a pickled olive."**

**... yeah, wasn't that great. I mean, I could have went for one of the "I told the doctor I was ill" type ones but I decided against it. Thanks all, I hope you've enjoyed this.****So that crazy caption marks the end of this "SYOT" but I must admit there really is something behind those words. I just spent a lot of time trying to find other initials rather than "Submit Your Own Tribute" that could do with friendship, courage and harmony but I hit a brick wall. Sorry. It's been one huge rollercoaster and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I have. As you know this has influenced me to do another SYOT, "Lost In Translation", which should be up by the time I post this so that means no more reserving places. You'll just have to go and do it the old fashioned way and submit a tribute via a form. You still have to use a form by the way, so I'll be PMing all of you who have successfully reserved a tribute your gender and district (because there has been some kafuffle around those – cool word, kafuffle) and yeah, you'll fill out the form and we'll go on from there. If you still want to continue it's not too late! Well, when I wrote this anyway, so check out for any empty spaces there!**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and it started to convince you that maybe you should write a SYOT (don't bother – terrible, terrible things ;P) or read some more of my stuff (DO bother – wonderful, wonderful things). Either way enjoy yourself out there and I'm going to sign off in good old fashion!**

**~Snev**


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